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Full text of "In subjection [microform]"

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Cwwdiwi InsthuM lof Htetorical MleroraproductloiM / Inttltut eanadtan da mlcroraproduetiara MMorh|iiw 




1995 



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i 



WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR 



COKCMNIMO ISABEL CAKNABT 
A E'OUBLB THRBAD 
TMB rARXINODONS 

ruBL or rwB 

nACX AND FOWBIl 

CUHD** OARDBN 

niUUS AMD OTBIR ST0KIB8 

TXRSIS WISB OR OTHBKWISI 

LOTI^S AXOUMBMT, AND OTHER POBMS 



(«• aOOtntbrn wtih A. L. FtUUi 
KATK or KATB HALL 



I 



IN SUBJECTION 



ELLEN THORNEYCROFT OWLER 

(•as, ALFiu uniNci rauM) 



SMCO»D SDITIOH 



TORONTO 

WILLIAM BRIGGS 

1906 



07H- 



i* tki 
United Slata if AnuHta 



l>e&fcation 



TO 



THE DAUGHTERS OF SARAH 



CONTENTS 



our. 

I. ISABEL'S GARDEN , 
II. FABIA VIPART 

III. THE SCOURGE OF THE RED CORD 

IV. THE OAVIHORMES . 
V. POLITICAL LIFE 

VL ISABEL'S VIEWS 
VII. GABRIEL CARR 
Vin. VERNACRE PARK . 
IX. GABRIEL THE PRIEST 
X. GABRIEL THE PASTOR 
XL JANET FIELD 
XIL FABIA'S MARRIAGE . 
XIIL GABRIEL THE HAN . 
XIV. THE LIVING OK GAVTHORNE 
XV. TUB LOST RECTOR . 
XVL FORSAKEN . 
XVn. THE BEGINNING OF TROUBLE 
XVIII. DR. MUKHARJI 
XIX. WHAT HAPPENED IN PARIS 
XX. ISABEL'S TEMPTATION 
XXL CAPTAIN OAVTHORNE'S HORSEWHIP 
XXU. THE EFFECT OF THE HORSEWHIP 
XXIIL A SECOND GABRIEL. 
XXIV. THE FIVE DOTS . . 

XXV. CiCSAR COSTBLLO . . 

EPILOGUB . . 



9 
as 

36 

54 

6S 

7S 

89 

108 

127 

148 

167 

180 

187 

199 

aiS 

ajo 

341 

257 

376 

289 

30s 
330 

335 
348 
358 
364 



IN SUBJECTION 



CHAPTER I 

ISABEL'S QARDEN 

In the drawing-room of a house oo the north side of 
Prince's Gardens a man and a woman were seated one 
wmter-s evening after dinner. It was not a large room 
and It was by no means a uu*que one as far as its' 
original structure was concerned, for it was of the 
orthodox "L" shape which obUins so largely in 
London drawing-rooms, excepting in those of ex- 
tremely recent manufacture; but there was that 
indefinable air of comfort and elegance about it, 
wUch certain women have the power to impart to 
their dwelling-places. It was furnished entirely with 
green— the most satisfactory of all colours for that 
purpose, be the furniture that of an ordinary dwelling. 
pUce, or of Nature's great house not made with hands • 
light green paper of the same hue as beech-trees in 
spring; dark green carpet and curtains, of the same 
tmt as mossy glades in summer; and chairs and 
couches of as many and as varying shades of green 
M are woods when the evergreens and the larches 
9 



» 



5n Subjectton 



struggle for a majority- Therefore— although It was 
only the begfaining of February— spring was already at 
home in this London drawing-room, winter having been 
kept waiting outside ever since the end of October. 
There were no outlying districts in this room as there 
are In so many ; the 1»clc drawing-room liad not been 
converted, as it usually is, into a sort of Court of the 
Gentiles, where outsiders congregate on uncomfortable 
chairs round an unused piano; but was in its own 
way as much honoured and esteemed as the front 
drawing-room, and was considered quite as respectable 
a place of residence. 

As for the occupants of this pleasant room, the man- 
somewhere about forty years of age— was tall and dark, 
thin and thoughtful-looking : the type of man who takes 
life and himself seriously, and who finds his sole recrea- 
tion in hard work. The woman was cast altogether in 
a different mould. She had the rounded plumpness 
which is inseparable from a light-hearted and easy-going 
disposition ; and the years— whereof she boasted one 
or two less than her husband— bad dealt more tenderly 
with her than with him. She was quick and active in 
all her movements ; but it was the activity of boundless 
energy rather than of feverish unrest. Her dark hair 
showed no trace of grey, save to her own all-seeing 
vision ; and her eyes were as bright and blue as they 
had been when she was a girl. They saw further now 
than they did then, perhaps; but their perceptions, 
though more acute, were less critical tbui in the old 
days. Although she lived in an age when domestic 
misery was the fashion, and when happy marriages 
were as completely out-of-date as crinolines or Paisley 
shawls, she nevertheless loved and admired ler husband 
with all her heart and mind and soul and strength. 



Ssabel's Oacdcit n 

Otherwise she was as up-to-date and as modern as it 
is necessary for any woman to be, 

" It seems to me," she suddenly remarked, apropos of 
luar own meditations, " that single life is like a road, and 
married life is like a gardea" 

"As how?" asked her husband, looking up from his 
evening paper, which, after the manner of men, he was 
devoutly studying. 

« Well, in this way. Single life is like a road, because 
it is always leading on to something else. It isn't meant 
to be a permanent place of residence; and people who 
make it so are behaving like the chUdren of Israel or 
the gipsies. They ought to ' fold up their tenU,' a la 
Longfellow's cares and the Arabs, and 'silently steal 
away': it is against the rules not to move on." 

Paul Seaton (that was the name of the man in the 
green drawing-room) smiled with that indulgent kind of 
smile which husbands are wont to use when they think 
their wives are talking nonsense and like them all the 
better for it 

"You seem to consider single life a somewhat chilly 
and uncomfortable sort of business," he remarked. 

" On the contrary, I think there is a good deal to be 
said for it in its own way. Of course it isn't as cosy 
and settled and Hving-on-your-property-ish as marriage ; 
you must see that for yourself. But it is more exciting! 
because it is always the way to somewhere else, and 
you are never quite sure where the next turn of the 
road will take you. It is not only a road ; it b a road 
where all the finger-posts are pure guesswork." 

" But the milestones are not" 

Mrs. Seaton sighed. 

"No; worse luck I The milestones are dreadfully 
pronounced and staring before you are married, and 



u SnSnbjectfon 

•re always coming to mcM yon and hitting you In 
the face. After you are married they leem to get a 
little moM-grown, and you don't notice them nearly to 
much. Yea; the portentous Bagnaey of the mfle- 
ctones is one of the greatest disadvantages of single 
life ; but It has its advantages all the same." 

" What else^ In addition to the mystery hidden round 
the next comer ? " 

"Oh I the delicious stranger-and- sojourner feeling 
that things are more or less temporary, and so don't 
matter. You can put up with many little incon- 
veniences in a wayside Inn that you couldn't tolerate 
for a moment in your own house. It is really the 
picnic instinct that imbues you as long as you are 
single— the same instinct that causes water boiled 
out-of-doors, on a fire of your own lighting, to make 
so much nicer tea than w&:er boiled in the kitchen 
kettle, and allowed to cool by the butler till ready for 
use." ' 

" But that instinct doesn't imbue me." 

Isabel shook her head reprovingly, 

"That is because you are getting old, and have got 
married, and the domestic instinct in your character has 
crowded out the picnic instinct" 

Seaton laughed, but he listened. He was one of 
the rare men (or is it rather the husbands of the rare 
women ?) who find the conversation of their wives more 
interesting than the newspapers. 

" You see," Mrs. Seaton continued, " I married late 
enough to know what single and married life are like, 
so I can speak as an expert in both." 

" Still, the fact that you knew nothing about either 
wouldn't have prevented you from doing that," retorted 
her husband ddly. 






9M»er« enoen is 

•Oh, Paul, how rude yon aie— and Just when I an 
talking so nicely and intelligently to you, tool " 

" Intelligently I admit, but hardly nicely. Yon are 
now catting me to the heart with your insinuations that 
when single life b bliss 'tis folly to be married. You 
cannot expect yonr loving husband exactly to relish 
these panegyrics on single blessedness." 

"They aren't panegyrics— they are merely statistics 
just to teach yon the diiTerence between being married 
and single." 

" Good heavens, I don't want teaching that I I know 
it only too well by experience I " And Paul Seaton 
laughed the contented laugh of the man who has 
attained his heart's desire. "But I wish you'd say 
something now on the other side— something in favour 
of the holy estate, don't you know ? This present 
attitude of mind is most depressing to me t " 

" I'm going to, only you are always In such a hurry 
to express your own opinions that yon never give me 
time to get a word in tdgnnya." 

" Excuse me, my love ; I have never yet expressed 
my own opinion opon matrimony. I should consider it 
impolite to do so in present company." 

The lady tried not to laugh, but failed. The aflTection 
between Paul Seaton and his wife was so great, and the 
camaraderie so perfect, that they could afford to make 
fun of each other now and then ; but they took care 
never to do so before a third persoa It is a mistake 
for husbands and wives to chaff each other in the 
presence of an audience. Brothers and sisters can do 
so as much as they like ; and, as a rule, the more they 
do It the fonder of each other they are: bnt with 
married people It is different They have the dignity 
of an office to maintain— the sanctity of a covenant to 



14 9« Sntfcctfon 

keep ; and it do« not do for them to treat mch thlngi 
lightly, when tiie eye of Europe ii upon them. It ii 
only when thsy are m Utt-d-M* that they may lafbly 
unbend, and rty confeu to themselves and to each 
other that there is a great deal that is very funny in 
both of them. Which undoubtedly there is, whoever 
they may ba 

"After all." admitted Isabel, "although there it a 
certain amount of very nice eccitement in living on a 
road which leads to nobody knows where, it is the sort 
of excitement that palls alter a time. People get tired 
of not knowing what is going to liappen next That is 
why hardly anybody really enjoys a stoty that comes 
out in a serial : ordinary human nature likes to be in a 
position to peep at the end whenever it thinks fit 
Hence the popularity of palmists and fortune-tellers 
and crystal bdls." 

"I understand. And it is when the road becomes 
too vague and unsettled that the garden comes ia" 

" Precisely. And the garden is all that the road is 
not and never can b»— peaceful and guarded and final 
and secure.' 

" And circumscribed," added FauL 

" Yea ; but I don't know that it is any the worse for 
that— especially for women." 

Seaton rose fiwm his chair, came across the room to 
where his wife was sitting, and b^an to stroke her hair. 
His face was grave — almost sad. He was wondering 
whether, aiter all, Isabel was contented with her part of 
the bargain; whether his love was sufficient to com- 
pensate her for the gaiety and luxury and excitement 
she had given up when she married him. Though they 
had enough to live upon even when Paul was out of 
office, they were by no means rich people : compared with 



a» al•JoH^ ->f their world they oeceturfly !ed a quiet 
Ufe. And Isabel Camaby had been denied no poaiible 
iMcmy nor excitement in the days when she Uved with 
her ancle and aant, Sir Benjamin and Lady Farley 
H« life then-both out in India, when Sir Benjamin 
held a Governorship, and afterwards in London and at 
Elton Manor— had been one long round of gaiety and 
pleasure; and Paul wu sometimes airaid that she 
might find the contrut between the past and the 
present too great-that she was too modem a woman 
for marriage completely to satisfy her, as it had 
satisfied her grandmothers. Wherein he showed that, 
for all his love, he did not yet entirely understand 
his wife: 

" So the garden is duUer than the road," he said : and 
his voice had a pathetic ring in it 

« Pwhaps; that is to say it has fewer possibflities and 
less adventures," 

" And it doesn't lead anywhere." 
"it'i^Ss'io^""''^ I«bel. nestling up to him; 

" It « home," he answered, as he stooped and kissed 
her; "but all the same, I am afraid you find it a little 
dull ttt times, my darling." 

" Thaf s a man all over I Men never understand how 
much we say. and how littie we mean: they have no 
ataiosphere in their minds which are like those dazzlimr 
photographs of foreign places, where the shadows are 
blacker than tiie substances. If you remark that you 
, "^^ u°' '""«y-*o* i"st to keep your fingers 
employed, they think that you are mi^ble inTJ 
marrtoge, and are striving to deaden your anguish by 
ceaseless toU ; and if yon say you feel as if you eouldn^ 
walk another thirty miles or so after a hard day's 



i« 9n •ntfccttoit 

exerdM, thay think you are dying of exhanition tad 
ought to havt an Injection of atrycbilne" 

"Well, I cant help being a man ; I wai born m; 
consequently, when you talk about marriage being a 
ho -id aort of walled-In kitchen-garden, I naturally fear 
thi>. you are finding it dull." 

"Oh, Paul, you «m silly— you really are I I dont 
find it an atom dull — I adore it Bat you must see 
for yourself that a garden Is — is — well, a garden is a 
garden." 

Isabel had not intended to finish her sentence thus 
lamely; but experience had taught her that when 
people are In a sensitive mood the less one says to 
them the better. Explanations rarely explain any- 
thing, except what luiid better be left unexplained: 
therefore wise persons avoid them as much as 
possible. She held her peace for fear of hurting her 
husband's feelings; but she succeeded In doing so 
nevertheless. 

"Just so," was all he lakl ; bnt he said ilt in rather an 
Injured tone of voice. 

"Don't be foolish, darling," she begged, rubbing her 
dieek against his hand. "Dont you see that when 
God made man perfectly happy. He planted him 
In a garden; and when Ho wanted to punish him. 
He turned him out on to a thorny and thistly hii;h- 
way? So there's really nothing unkind to yon in my 
comparing marriage to a garden— in iart quite the 



"I see." replied Paul drily. 

"No, you don't Whenever you say 'I see' in that 
particular tone of voice, i'; always means that you see 
something which isnt there.* 

Paul smiled in spite of himself. 



9mM'« (NcMn 
"Well, what ii all thii leading up tc 



•7 



_ . , _^ .o, I should like to 

Know?" 

"J''»f« *'»» I'm coming ta A K>rden, to be a 
rewly nice, drcMy garden, must have things in it, dont 
you see— heape and heaps of things? It wants mich 
more furnishing than a road does. As long as the road 
has good high hedges on either side to keep travellers 
from going where they ought not, it needn't have 
Bowers or fountains or shrubs or rockeries, because 
people merely regard it as a means to an end, and so 
don t mind if it b rather sketchy. But when you've got 
. garden of your own, and mean to :ipend the test of 
your life there, you naturally want to fill it with all sorts 
of beautiful things." 

Isabel paused to take breath, but Paul did not speak. 
How nice of you to keep quiet and listen I" she 
remarked approvingly. -That is where men are fr 
much more restful to live with than wone" ; thjy let 
you say what you want to say without eternally trying 
to poke their own oars ia You see." she continued, 
other women have children and careers and parishes 
and school-boards, and all sorts of things to furnish their 
prdens and keep them from seeming empty: but I 
haven't" 

Unconsciously her voice quivered as she said the 
word "children.- She did not notice it herself: but 
Paul dU. 

"My por darllngl- he said; and a(nln laid a 
caressing hand upon the neat brown head. 

Isabel thrilled at hb touch, and in the same breath 
iMHped that Iw wasn't roughening her hair much. She 
prided herself upon always being a very spick-and-span 
person. '^ 

" I'm not poor at all," she retorted. "I've got >vk'' 

B 



It 



?n Snbiectton 



" But I don't seem to be large enough for the place 
somehow. That's where the tragedy comes in." 

"Yes, you are ; you are more than enough, if only I 
could see enough of you ; but I can't If I could always 
be with you I should never want anything or anybody 
else, even for five minutes ; you'd furnish any garden as 
completely as a cedar-tree does, or a large fountain. 
But you are so busy with Houses of Commons and 
War Offices and tiresome old things of that sort, that 
often you haven't time to attend to me. And it is then 
that the garden seems a little empty." 
" My poor darling I " Paul repeated. 
Isabel rattled on : " I can't for the life of me see what 
any woman can want in addition to a husband, if the 
husband is anything like you, and if he is always with 
her; but if she is married to an alibi, absentee-landlord 
sor". of a person, who is always somewhere else than 
where he Is at the time, she wants something to fill up 
the intervals— like those funny little street - scenes in 
Shakespeare's plays, while the scenery is being 

changed." 

" I am afraid I do leave you alone a good deal," replied 
her husband, with a sigh ; "but I cannot help it You 
know that, don't you, my darling ? " 

" I think you could help it more than you do, if only 
you hadn't such an elephant of a conscience and such a 
hippopotamus of a sense of duty. What on earth is 
the good of a man's being always at his post, when the 
post happens to be a Government Office? Posts can 
stand still by themselves, without wanting anybody to 
help them. It is what they are made for : that and 
deafness: and when you say 'as deaf as a post' you 
mean as deaf as a post in the Government because they 
nevf r listen tp suggestions nor bear complaints, But 



thafs neither here nor there." And Isabel pursed up 
her Hps and nodded her head with the air of one who 
could say considerably more if she chose. 

« Well, what is the pai trcular new toy that you want 
n","T/°'' *" furnishing of your garden?" asked 
Faul. « I am certain that you have one in your eye at 
the present moment" He knew his Isabel 
^JJ Right as usual I It's a girl -an Anglo-Indian 

Seaton fairly jumped. Isabel rarely succeeded in 
surpnsing him or taking him unawares : he was pretty 
. well accustomed to her vagaries by now. But she did 
this time. 

"A girl? Good gracious 1 What in the name of 
fortune do you want with a girl?" 

« Lota of things. I want to instruct her. and amuse 
tisr, and entertain her, and Bnally marry her." 

" To whom do you want to many her ? " ' 

" Several people." 

"Youll find it rather dfficult to manage that, the 
present marriage laws being as narrow and antiquated 
as they are. 

"Paul,. don't be silly! What I mean is that I've 
several people in my eye that I think would do for her • 
and I shall let her choose which." 

•' That is very generous of you, my sweet I But won't 
they have a say in the matter ? " 

"Oh I thafs their look-out I can't bother about 
tnem. 

"Who are they?" 

" I'm not going to tell you." 

" Please do. I'm dying to know." 

^But Isabel stood firm. •• Nothing would induce me to 



M 9n Subiectton 

" You'd better. It would make you feel much more 
comfo;-table in your mind." 

" My mind it quite comfortable already, thank you ; 
if anything, too luxurious." 

" And it would amuse me immensely." 

Now it is always difficult for a woman to refrain from 
telling her husband anything that she thinks will amuse 
him J in ninety -nine cases out of a hundred it is 
impossible. But this happened to be the hundredth. 

" I'm not going to tell you," Isabel repeated sternly; 
"at least not yet" 

Paul's eye twinkled. He knew that Time, which 
reveals all secrets, was particularly rapid in revealing 
Isabel's. But all he said was ; 

" Then, if I may not know the name of the happy man, 
may I know that of the girl ? " 

"Oh, yes! I don't mind telling you that It is 
Fabia Vipart" 

"And who, in the name of all thafs wonderful, is 
Fkbia Vipart?" 

" Her father was a Major Vipart in the Indian Army, 
and her mother was a Hindoo— at least, her grandmother 
was ; and they are both dead." 

" Both her grandmothers, do you mean 7 " 

" Of course not ; they must have been dead for ages ; 
grandmothers nearly always are. I mean her parents." 

" How very sad for the girl— at least, presumably so ! 
But how did you get to know her, Isabel ? " 

" I knew her father out in India when I was living 
there with the Parleys. He wanted to marry me." 

"An Oriental custom, I suppose. And did the 
Hindoo lady object?" 

" Oh, Paul, how silly you are I He was a widower, of 
course." 



3«8M'f o««en ■! 

"Why 'of course'? I wasn't aware there was 
anything especially ephemeral about Hindoo ladies." 

"I said -of course,' because if he hadn't been a 
widower he wouldn't have wanted to many me." 

"I fafl to see the logic of that / wasn't a widower, 
and I wanted to marry you. I never knew that you set 
up for bemg an emporium of only second hand goods." 

"I daresay if you ^^ been a widower, you'd have 
had more r sdom— or perhaps I should say experience 
—than to want to marry me," suggested Isabel slUy. 

" Not I, my own I I should always have been a fool 
where you were concerned. But to return to Miss 
Fabta. I gather that when you knew Major Vipart. 
the Hindoo lady-like Wordsworth's £«o^had ceased 

" She'd been dead for years. And besides, as I've 
explained to you, she wasn't a Hindoo at all: her 
mother was." 

" Then is Miss Fabia black ? " 

" Good gracious, no I " exclaimed IsabeL " Her hair 
IS dark, of course, but not as black as—" 

" It is painted ; probably not Many women's isn't" 

« When I was out in India she was quite a child; a 
cream^oloured child with huge brown eyes. She 
always reminded me of a dress I had of cream satin 
trimmed with brown velvet It was a very pretty 
dress 1" ' 

And Isabel's face grew soft with that tender ex- 
pression which a woman's face always wears when she 
IS recalling bygone garments that became her well. 

1 1t must have been ; and the prettiest bit was the 
Unmg, as our old nurse Martha used to say. She 
never said it of my clothes or of Joanna's, by the way • 
it was generally upon AUce Martin's wardrobe that 



M 



3n Sniiiectlon 



this criticism was passed, if I remember rigbtiy. Joanna 
and I were plain children; and it was considered 
conducive to our eternal salvation to make us believe 
that we were even plainer than we were. Which really 
was an act of supere^-ogation." 

"You never were plain, PauU" exclaimed Isabel 
indignantiy. " I won't let anybody say such things ol 
my husband ; not even you." 

"Nevertheless It is true, sweetheart I was an ugly 
little b^gar in those days, and a prig at that. But we 
are wandering from Miss Fabia. Her father wanted to 
marry you, you say. Hi was evidently a sensible man, 
whatever her mother might have been." 

" Her mother couldn't help being a Hindoo," retorted 

Isabel, rather huffily. It always annoyed her when 

English people spoke disrespectfully of foreign racea 

"But you have just said that she not only coiOdbelp 

it, but did." 

" Oh Paul, I wish you wouldn't quibble in that silly 
way, when I am trying to talk to you seriously I It was 
the grandmother that couldn't help being a Hindoo, 
and Fabia could help it even less ; and yet people were 
very horrid to Fabia about it, and to her father too." 

" All right : I understand. Miss Fabia's grandmother 
could no more help being a Hindoo than her father 
could help wanting to marry you. Poor beggar 1 I'm 
the last man to blame him. But now, where does the 
girl come in, and what is her connexion with the 
allegory of the marriage-market — I mean the marriage- 
market-garden?" 

" Well, you see, I have heard through Aunt Farley, 
who still corresponds with a host of people out in India, 
that Fabia is extremely anxious to come to England 
for a time to sample English society. So I thought it 



SeOKl'e 0&:^n 



•3 



would be rather nice if I had her here for a few months, 
and trotted her about and showed her round." 

"And then instructed and entertained and finally 
married her to that nameless knight whom you have 
in your eye. Now at last I begin to master the 
programme." 

"You wouldn't mind having her here, would you, 
darling ? " asked Isabel, in a coaxing voice. 

" I shouldn't mind anything that gave you pleasure, " 
my dearest— not even a girl, though I own I am not 
very keen upon them as a rule." 

" Well, it would give me a great deal of pleasure to 
take a young girl about, and watch her go through all 
the phases that I've been through myself, and to watch 
her mind working like bees in a glass hivt It would be 
such fun teaching her all the things that I've learnt by 
experience." 

"She wouldn't learn much that way, my sweet: 
nobody does. But that needn't interfere with your 
pleasure Jn teaching her." 

"It wouldn't She is quite young — not much over 
twenty, I should think: so I shall be able to do what- 
ever I like with her. It isn't likely that a girl of that 
age will have many plans and interests of her own as 
yet. And I shan't knuckle under to her because she 
is young, as so many women do. I don't kow-tow to 
the young. I was onc< young myself, and I know how 
it's done." 

" You must remember, Isabel, that she probably will 
not look at life through your eyes, as you seem to 
expect; and you must not be disappointed if she 
doesn't" 

■She will look at life very much as I looked at it 
when I was her age," replied Isabel, with a characteristic 



M 



$n Snbjectfott 



toss of her head « Vou may know more about politics 
than I do. my dear Paul, but you can't possibly know 
as much about girls." 

"Thank heaven for that! But 1 know a goo^ deal 
about one woman, and I think you make a mistake \i 
expecting other people to be exacUy like yourself- 
because unfortunately they are not" 

"Perhaps I am inclined to think too highly of my 
fellow-creatures," replied Isabel demurely: "but it is a 
good fault" 

" ^^ "„ »" »'»*''"te'y charming fault as all yours are, 
my darling," said Seaton, kissing his wife. "But I 
must be oir to the Housa Invite your litUe Indian 
girl, by all means; but don't be disappointed if she 
doesnt turn out to be as absolutely adorable as you 
are yourself; because neither she nor anybody else 
possibly could." ' 

Thus it was settled that Fabia Vipart should come to 
sUy with the Paul Scatons for the following Season ; and 
Isabel wrote out by the next mail to make all the 
neosssaiy arrangements. Would she have written quite 
so ghbly had she known all the trouble that the coming 
of Fabia would involve ? Perhaps not And yet if we 
were always prevented from doing anything for fear of 
possible consequences— if we were always letting "I dare 
not" wait upon " I would." like the cat i' the adage- 
then not many a thing would be done when 'twere done, 
and nothing would be done quickly. 






CHAPTER II 

FABIA VIPART 

A NATIVE gentleman, dressed in European costume, 
was sitting alone in tlie drawing-room of an Indian 
bungalow. He was a man in the prime of life, with 
the narrow figure and small hands and feet of the true 
OrieBtal, His head was small, and his hair absolutely 
black. No beard or moustache hid his firm yet 
delicately-moulded mouth and chin; and the upper 
part of his face showed considerable fineness of form. 
A handsome man undoubtedly; but with the beauty of 
the EMt rather than of the West : a man likewise of con- 
siderable fascination ; but whose charm had somethine 
weird and uncanny about it He was one of those who 
strive to lift the veil of the great temple of Nature and 
to pry into her hidden places ; and he had succeeded in 
wresting from her certain of those secrets, which she. in 
her wise and tender motherhood, keeps as a rule con- 
cealed from the sons and daughters of men This 
meddling with the occult had left its mark upon him • 
had set him apart, as it were, from the common herd,' 
and had loosened those bonds of sympathy which bind 
ordinary men and women to each other in this work- 
aday wrld; to that people felt awe for him rather 
than affection, and found him fascinaUng rather than 
lovable 

•5 



•6 



9n subjection 



The house in which he was sitting was not his own, 
for it was full of signs of feminine habitation ; and Ram 
Chandar Mukharji was a bachelor. It was the house of 
his disUnt cousin, Fabia Vipart, whom he had called to 
see, and for whose appearance he was now patiently 
waiting. And, like all Orientals, he had mastered the 
art of patient waiting. He did not fidget about the 
room as an Englishman in the same circumstances 
would have done, trying to find some book or news- 
paper to while away the time, lest one minute of it 
should be lost— that is to say, should be unoccupied 
by outside interests ; but' he sat quite still, absorbed 
in his own thoughts, with a stillness unknown to the 
children of Western races. 

Presently the swish of silken skirts was heard 
approaching, and Miss Vipart entered the room. 
Then for the first time the face of the man showed 
signs of animation, being illuminated with the light 
of a great joy that was all the more intense for being 
silent 

"Good morning, Fabia," he said, as he took her slim 
brown hand in his own. His voice was as soft and 
silken in its tone as was the rustle of his cousin's skirts; 
as sweet, in fact, as a woman's. 

" Good morning, Ram Chandar. I am glad you have 
;ome, because I want particularly to see you. I have 
something to tell you." 

" Of course I came ; I am always coming. I only 
live in order to come here, and I only go away in order 
to have the pleasure of coming again." 

Fabia smiled, and sank down into a low chair, 
stretching out her slender form luxuriously. It would 
have been apparent to the most casual observer that 
these two belonged not only to the same race but also 



f abia Vipact ., 

to the lame family, there was such a strong resemblance 

between them. But the infusion of English blood in 

the girl s case placed the balance of beauty on her side; 

u" u*" f"* **'"'*y y**" younger than her cousin. 

which IS always physically an advantage; but in addi- 

Uon to this she had inherited something of her father's 

fibre. Though equally slender, she was taller for a 

woman than Mukharji was for a man; as they stood 

together their eyes were almost on a level. While his 

hair was a dead black, hers was a dusky brown, relieved 

by innumerable lights and shadows. Her nose and 

mouth were as finely formed as his ; but in place of his 

Oun and colourless lips, hers were a ripe crimson. 

They had the same full forehead and flashing eyes ; but 

the expression of their faces was totally different There 

was no doubt that Ram Chandar was a handsome man ; 

but Fabia was an exceptionally beautiful woman 

Beautiful, indeed, as a dream; bui with something 

serpentine in the quality of her beauty-something 

Si-ake-hke in the perfection of her grace 

"I have to tell you," she said, and her voice was like 

his in its softness of tone and slowness of movement; 

that I am going away ; going away to England." 

The man sat still and did not speak. But his 

silence was heavy with the weight of suppressed 

passion. 

Fabia did not trouble to look at him. These two 
knew each other so well that words— even looks— were 
unnecessary between them. 

"I am weary of the life here," tha giri went on; 

weary of the routine and the emptiness and the 

frivolity; weary most of all of the contempt of the 

Anglo-Indians, as they call themselves. S- I am eoins 

to England." ^ * 



■• 9n Snbjectioii 

Then at last the man spoke. « You will hate it" 

" I think not I am partly English myself, you see, 
and the English part of me is homesiGk for England 
I can feel my father in me crying oat to return to his 
native land." 

" You say the English out here despise you. If they 
do, what matters it? They are but pariahs and dogs. 
But still if they do so here, will they not do so also in 
England; and shall you like it any better there than 
here 7" 

"You are wrong. Ram Chandar; there is none of 
that prejudice in England that there is here against 
people of mixed races. I have talked to men and 
women fresh from England, and I know. They will 
admire me all the more for it — for that and for my 
beauty. They are so commonplace themselves, those 
English, that they are ready to fall down and worship 
whatever is out of the common ; so that pure whiteness 
here and mixed whiteness in England are equally worthy 
of their adoration." 

Mukharji did not speak ; but he fixed his wonderful 
eyes on the girl and willed her to tell him all that was 
in her thoughts. 

She moved her bead restlessly under his gaze for 
half a minute; then she answered him as if he had 
spoken. 

" I do not wish to keep anything from you ; I will tell 
you all that is in my ueart. There never have been any 
secrets between you and me." 

"There never can be. I can read your soul, my 
child, as I read an open book. And I tell you that you 
will hate those English when you see them in their own 
Und." 

** I think not ; I think not, Ram Chandar. If I do 



yaMi PfiNNt t9 

n«t hate them n«w when they look down on me, why 
should I hate them when they adore me? For I mean 
them to adore me : I have made up my mind to that ; 
and what I intend I always accomplish." 

Again the man fixed his eyes on the girl without 
speaking; and again she moved restlessly, yet with 
infinite grace. She was one of those rare women 
whose every movement is in itself a thing of beauty. 

"I despise them too utterly to hate them," she 
continued; "but I want to show them my power— to 
lord it over with them as they now try to lord it over 
me. And although I despise them they have a certain 
interest and charm for me ; I admire their big bodies 
and their fair complexions, and it amuses me to trifle 
with their shallow little souls." 

"You had far better stay here, FabIa-«mong yonr 
own people who understand yoa." 

"Among my grandmother's people, you mean; yoa 
forget that I am more than half English." 

He did not forget; he never foisot that Fabia 
belonged quite as much to the alien race as to his own ; 
and he was deeply and bitterly jealous of the foreigners 
in consequence, 
For once the Impenetrable veil of his reserve was lifted. 
"Fabia, do not go," he entreated, and this time i^ere 
was passion in his voice as well as in his eyes. " Stay 
here and be my wife. I love you, Fabia ; I have always 
loved you ; you are part of my very soul." 

Then at last the girl turned lazily in her chair and 
looked at him ; and once more he forced the truth from 
her by the strength of his wIlL " I cannot marry you, 
Ram Chandat : I dr not love you ; you are too much 
like myself. If I marry, I should like to marry a Wg, 
Strong Englishman with a fair complexion and a shal'iow 



9n Stt^icction 



if.. 



little MMiL If I married you, you would want to be my 
■lave— and I ihould not like that at alL But the big, 
•trong Englishman would be my matter, and would do 
with me whatsoever he would. He would know none of 
my thoughts, but I should know all of his ; and yet he 
would be the master, because he would be strong and 
stupid. In this world strength and stupidity are the 
great ruling powers ; nothing can stand against them. 
And I should hate him for ruling over me, Ram Chandar 
—oh I yes, I should hate him ; but I should adore him 
for it all the same." 

She paused, but the man made no reply ; then — as 
if impelled by some power stronger than herself— she 
went on : " And although I despise them, I resent their 
contempt for me. I want to be one of themselves, and 
to share their privileges, and to hurt them as they have 
hurt me and my mother before me. Ram Chandar, I 
must go, even If only for a short time." 

" If you go, you will never come back," 

" In that case, you can come to me." 

" Perhaps so ; perhaps not That is as Fate wills. 
But what about all that I have taught you, Fabia? 
What about all those hidden things to which no 
woman's mind save yours has ever been opened 7 Is 
all this to be wasted, because you choose to live among 
Englisl iogs who have no thoughts beyond their own 
vile bodies, and to whom the world of spirits is for ever 
closed?" 

" Not necessarily." 

" It will be— and necessarily. But I will waste no 
more breath in argument Your mind is made up, and 
nothing will turn you; you were not even half a 



Mukharji if it would, 
preferred an Englishman 



loved your mother, and she 
to me : I lore her daughter, 



f «Mii mpnt 



St 



and the will prefer an Englishman to me : It ii ai Fate 
Willi, and nothing can alter it It ii uaelets to fight 
againit Fate. I lubmit" 

" My plans are all made," said Fabia, in her sweet 
voice " I had to make them by myself because y j 
were away, and Mrs. Seaton wanted an answer by the 
next mail." 

" I wait to hear." 

If the man who had been a father to Fabia ever 
since her own father's death was wourded by her cool 
independence of him, he made no sign: he simply 
listened with an imperturbable face, out of which he 
had smoothed every trace of his recent emotion. 

" I am going to stay for a few months with Mrs. Paul 
Seaton, who lived here for four years with her uncle. Sir 
Benjamin Farley. You remember him ? " 

" Well ; and his wife also : a soulless woman with a 
cultivated mind — cultivated, that is tc say, for an 
Englishwoman. They are generally such cruder such 
untrained creatures." 

"Then do you not remember their niece, Miss 
Carnaby? She became Mrs. Paul Seaton some years 
aga She must be quite old by this time — considerably 
over thirty ; and I shall do whatever I like with her. It 
bnt likely that a woman of that age will still have 
many plans and interests of her own." 

Fabia little recked that Isabel had made the same 
remark, almost word for word, about her, merely 
substituting "young" for "old." Age is, after all, very 
much a question of perspective. 

" I remember her perfectly : a noisy, shallow, sparkling 
brook of a woman — the sort that Englishmen want to 
marry, and consider themselves very fortunate if they 
succeed." And Ram Chandar shuddered slightly. 



s« 



9n Sttbfecnon 



M' 

: 



"Papa did.' 

" Ah I " A look of ineffable disgust suffused the dark 
face. " He wanted that woman — that empty, babbling 
brook— to fill your mother's place 7 How English 1 " 

" Poor papa I He was olten very foolish." 

•• And you hated her— hated the chattering fool that 
was asked to step into your mother's shoes?" 

Fabia smiled languidly. 

" No, my dear Ram Chandar, I did nothing of the 
kind. To tell the truth, I rather liked her, although I 
despised her. She was kind-hearted, though too effusive 
for my taste; and not nearly so offensively clever as she 
supposed herself." 

"A fool, doubtless, like most of her country- 
women I " 

" By no means a fool ; a clever woman in a superficial 
way. Clever enough to know there were some things 
beyond her comprehension ; but not clever enough to 
try to comprehend them." 

" And yon can forgive that woman for being asked 
to fill your mother's place? You are indeed your 
father's daughter 1" 

" I can forgive any woman for being asked in marria|e 
by any man. It is her one possible diploma of merit 
The only woman I cannot forgive is the woman whom 
no man has asked in marriage. She is a blot upon my 
sex." 

"You are cold, Fabia— cold as ice ; and you are also 
eniel. Yet I love you." 

The girl mocked him. 

" And I am also beautiful, and yet you love me. And 
I am also clever, and yet you love me. And I am also 
wealthy, and yet you love me. Truly the love of man 
la a wonderful and a selfless thing ! " 



9tibUi Vfpsrt 33 

Again the handsome fa> i put on it i mask of immo- 
bUity. "And whom d J she finally marry — thii 
twenty-first love of your :=unr?" 

" A Member of Parliament— what they call a Radical 
—by name Paul Seaton. He is Under-Secretary for 
the War Office, whatever that may mean. He was 
poor, too, and she married for what she called love; 
by which probably she meant a due sense of the 
unfitness of things." 

"And you can make yourself happy amone such 
people?" 

"For a time, yes. I am bored to death here. I am 

tired of you all, and have seen all there is to see, and 

have learnt by heart all there is to learn ; and I want a 

change." 

" And it never occurs to you to wonder what / want ? " 

"Never." 

Wherein Fabia spoke the simplest truth. It never 
did occur to her to consider what anybody except 
herself thought or felt about anything. At present 
she was completely and absolutely selfish. She had 
schooled herself not to mind the social slights which, 
in Anglo-Indian society, the faa that she was a half- 
caste entailed upon her; and she had succeeded in 
meeting them with the utmost indifference, not to say 
contempt; but they had had their effect upon her 
character all the same. 

There are few baneful influences more difficult to 
withstand than that of continual social slights. Th« 
iron of them is prone to enter even into the strongest 
and purest souls ; and the iron does not invariably act 
as a tonic. From sorrow and misfortune men and 
women often rise ennobled and purified; but it is 
doubtful if a continuance of petty slights ever haa a 

e 



34 9n Snblection 

beneficial effect upon any human being; It almost 
invariably hardens and embitters, and changes the 
fairest Elims into Marahs indeed. Perhaps the 
most cruel part of losing a fortune is not its immediate 
effect upon ourselves, but ite effect upon our neigh- 
bours and their consequent treatment of us. 

And what right have we, forsooth, in our mean and 
petty arrogance, to distort and stultify the immortal 
souls of those men and women who happen to be less 
wealthy or well-bom than ourselves ? What right have 
we, in our smug self-complacency, to deface the Divine 
Image and Superscription on the current coin of our 
Father's realm? Our only excuse is that we are 
ignorant of the harm we are doing, the effect of a social 
snub being, as a rule, out of all proportion to the cause. 
Therefore the next time we feel constrained, in our 
fancied superiority, to teach (as we phrase it) some less 
fortunate fellow-man his place, let us take care that our 
innate snobbishness and our cultivated insolence are 
not endangering the soul of a weaker brother! 

Thus it was not altogether poor Fabia's fault that 
she WM cold and selfish and hard ; it was rather the 
fault of those fashionable friends of her father's who felt 
it incumbent ufjon them to indicate their own social 
superiority bi ' displaying a studied exclusiveness 
towards all t'jose not of their own race or order. But 
though the fault might be theirs, the onus rested with 
her; and she, like the rest of us, had to take the 
consequences cf her own failings— to suffer from the 
results of her own mistakes. 

She had loved her mother more than she had ever 
loved her father ; but her admiration and respect were 
always put down to the tatter's score. The fact that he 
bdoDsed to the dominant race had influenced her every 



f abla Vtpait 35 

thought of him ; and her very bitterness against the 
attitude of his people towards her, was a proof that she 
invariably recognized their superiority. 

Her mother died when she was still a child ; and her 
father when she was just developing into womanhood. 
Since his death her mother's kinsman, Ram Chandar 
Mukharji, had taken charge of herself and her property, 
providing her with a duenna in the shape of a cast-oiT 
though eminently worthy governess whom the family 
of an English Resident had ou^own. 

Underneath the almost Oriental languor of Fabia's 
manner, her mind was feverishly active. She was never 
really at rest — never content Consequently she soon 
wearied of poor Miss Jones's conscientious supervision, 
and plumed her radiant wings for wider flight It was 
then that Isabel heard of her and her desire to come to 
England, through one of Lady Farley's Anglo-Indian 
friends ; and Mrs. Beaton sent out her invitation just in 
the nick of time when Fabia felt that she could endure 
India and Miss Jones no longer. The girl had inherited 
a handsome fortune and large estates from her mother; 
and she had the independence and the intolerance of 
restraint which are the invariable attributes of moneyed 
immaturity. 

Thus she was as pleased at the idea of coming to the 
Seatons' as Mrs. Seaton was at the idea of receiving 
her ; and she was just as set upon managing Isabel as 
Isabel was set upon managing her. And the result of 
the contest between these two strong and self-willed 
women still lay in the lap of the gods. 



CHAPTER III 



THB SCOURGB OP THE RED CORD 



Fabia came to England as had been arranged, and was 
received by Mrs. Paul Seaton with open arms; but 
Miss Vipart had not been long at Prince's Gardens 
before Isabel realized that she had opened her arms a 
little too wide before understanding all the bearings of 
the case. She at once confided the discovery of this 
error, and her repentance of the same, to Paul, who, 
like a good husband (and unlike a good wife), carefully 
refrained from saying anything which, even by the 
freest translation, could be construed into " I told you 
so." He was for sending Fabia back to India by return 
of post, so to speak, having (again like a good husband) 
no sense of proportion where his wife and his wife's 
interests were concerned. The man who is alive to the 
laws of perspective with regard to the woman that he 
loves, had better take at once a self-imposed vow of 
celibacy : for while the world stands he will never make 
even a passable husband. But Isabel— with that innate 
sense of justice in which it pleases men to imagine that 
all women 9.re fundamentally lacking — felt that such a 
course of conduct would be most unfair to her guest : 
and pft the temptation away from her accordingly. 

It was not really the fault of either woman that the 
two did not, as the phrase runs, get on well together] 
•6 



TTbe Sconrfle o( tbe lle( Cotb 



SI 



Y 



they met with the full intention of liking each other 
extremely, and of being great friends as the fashionable 
world counts friendship; but the fact was that they 
were absolutely incapable of understanding one another; 
and true friendship without mutual comprehension is a 
contradiction in terma. 

It was no fault of Isabel's that, In spite of all her 
efforts to understand Fabia's character, she signally 
failed ; on the contrary, this failure was rather to her 
credit than otherwise. With all her faults— of which 
she had her proper and normal share— there was not 
one grain of bitterness or acidity in Isabel's character ; 
she was constitutionally Incapable of feeling either the 
one or the other. True, in the old, half-forgotten days, 
she had written a book which was noted for its bitter 
cynicism; but that was but the expres'ion of a 
temporary phase which was altogether foreign to her 
natural bent of mind. She had dipped her pen in gall 
as she wrote ; but the pen-wiper was ever at hand to 
remove the foreign substance as soon as she had done 
with it ; and it had never even temporarily stained her 
white fingers. Of acidity she was incapable, even 
momentarily; that could never tinge even a passing 
thought in her mind. She might have been somewhat 
hard and thoughtless and capricious in uer young days : 
her detractors said that she was; but none of them could 
ever accuse her of being soured by the experience of 
life. Perhaps there was more invigorating saltness than 
cloying sweetness in her nature ; but, be it remembered, 
salt is further removed from acidity than is even sugar. 
And, after all, hardness and thoughtlessness are faults 
of youth, which decrease with advancing years ; while 
bitternest and addity ctily eat deeper and deeper as 
time rolls on into the lives of those that harbour thff m. 



38 



9n Subjection 



But because of this very saneness of character, which 
might make her outwardly hard but never inwardly 
bitter, Isabel found it impossible to enter into Fabia's 
feelings ; and was consequently perhaps a little severe 
and unsympathetic with the girl She had never ex- 
perienced that social ostracism which had entered as 
iron into Fabia's soul : therefore she was incapable of 
appreciating its effect upon the girl's character. She 
pitied her for it, it is true ; but pity is often not akin 
to sympathy, whatever jt may be to love. We must 
all h?v.; the defects of our qualities, and Isabel there- 
fore could not escape the inherent limitations of the 
healthy - minded, unaffected, humorous, successful 
woman. 

Fabia, on the other hand, could not escape the 
defects of the passionate, highly - strung, reserved, 
thoughtful, introspective girl. To her superfine sensi- 
bilities, Isabel appeared a little harsh and rough ; while 
to Isabel's commou-sense and unfailing humour, Fabia's 
supersensitiveness of mind and body seemed decidedly 
unhealthy and morbid. 

Although she never mentioned it to anybody, Fabia's 
visit to England was a far greater disappointment to 
herself than it was to her hostess. She had had an 
idea that when once she was in England among her 
father's people, the feeling of loneliness which had 
oppressed her all her life would vanish: instead of 
which she felt more isolated here than she had ever 
done at home. It is strange, that sense of loneliness 
and isolation which appears to be the unalterable lot of 
certdn souls I They are set apart from their fellows, 
why they know not ; and nothing that they say or do 
can break down the wall of partition that stands between 
themselves and other men. From her earliest infancy 



TIbe Sconrfle of tbe neb Cotd 



39 



Fabia had been a prey to this terrible feeling- of 
solitariness. As a child, if other children came to pliy 
with her at her own house, they always played with 
each other and left her out in the cold. And as a girl 
the same thing happened with regard to other girls. 
Even her great beauty and undeniable intellectual 
powers did not help her; they seemed rather to place 
her still further apart from other people. No one but 
herself knew how fiercely she envied those common- 
place girls who had their full share of brothers and 
sisters, and more than their full share of bosom friends ; 
nor how passionately she resented those qualities in 
herself which prevented her companions from being 
comfortably intimate with her. And now that she had 
at last attained her heart's desire and come to England, 
it was just the same. People admired and f£ted her 
because of her beauty and accomplishments, but they 
never treated her as one of themselves, as they treated 
Isabel; and Fabia was quick to see this. They 
were never rude to her, as they had been in India — 
never even impolite ; but there was a subtle suggestion 
in the atmosphere that she was a visitor rather than a 
relation — a stranger to be entertained rather than a 
friend to be welcomed. Many women would not have 
been conscious of this, but Fabia's perceptions were 
abnormally acute; and however much people might 
flatter her, she knew in a moment when they did not 
like her, and she agonized accordingly. Isabel, on the 
other hand, possessed to a marked dq;ree the gift of 
friendliness and camaraderie. Everyone who knew 
her felt that they had known her all her life, she had 
such a wonderful knack of finding some common ground 
whereon herself and the most unlikely person could 
meet and fraternize. And this quality in her hostess 



40 



3n Snbiectton 



made poor Fabia realize the more poignantly her own 
loneliness and desolation. 

Humanity is divided into two sets of people: the 
people who are inside a red cord and the people who 
are outside; there is no other division that really 
matters. Those who are inside are cheerful and com- 
fortable and well-liking, at peace with gods and men, 
and with everybody except outsiders ; while those out- 
side are unhappy and desolate and oppressed, at war with 
themselves and with each other, and bitterly vindictive 
against those happier beings within the sacred inclosure : 
and it is all the fault of the red cord. 

There are red cords in all worlds and in all phases of 
life — social, personal, religious; and one's happiness 
mainly depends upon one's relative position towards 
these said red cords. 

It is a cruel thing, this red cord— cruel fundamentally 
to those on both sides of it It fills those within with 
hardness of heart, pride, vainglory, and hypocrisy ; an ' 
those without with envy, hatred, and malice, and all 
uncharitablenesi. It Is old too, this red cord — old as 
human nature. Ishmael had felt the scourge of it when 
his hand was against every man and every man's hand 
against his ; and those daughters of Heth, from whom 
Esau chose his wife, had learnt how pitiless it could be. 
Although inimical to the true spirit of Christianity, it 
nevertheless continued to exist after the dawning of the 
dayspring from on high ; even the great Apostle knew 
how to wield it to the confounding of the Gentiles; 
and it was not until the vision of the great vessel had 
been vouchsafed to him three times, that he was 
content to lay it down. It was responsible for the 
torti'res of the Spanish Inquisition, (or the horrors 
of the French Revolution; it is still responsible for 



Vbe Sconroe of tbe Hci Cord 4> 

most of the evils of locial and political and relieious 
life. 

Ever since she could remember, Fabia Vipart had 
writhed under the scourge of the red cord; it had 
lashed her naturally tender spirit into revolt and 
rebellion by its merciless system of exclusiveness ; and 
Isabel Seaton, who had been born and bred within the 
select circle, and who had never known the misery of 
those whom Society chooses to consign to outer 
darkness, was as ignorant as a babe of all that Fabi .. 
sufTered, and as intolerant as a child of the outw^ird 
signs of that suffering. 

Moreover the two women were somewhat far apart 
in years, and so lacked the freemasonry of contem- 
poraries. If we are considerably older than anybody 
else, it does not invariably follow that we are wiser; 
but it invariably follows that we think we are, and nothing 
will convince us to the contrary. Therefore Isabel was 
fully prepared to advise and instruct her junior ; and 
her junior obstinately refused to be advised or in- 
structed: wherein lay the raw materials for die 
manufacture of open war&re. 

One afternoon, about a month after Fabia's arrival in 
England, she and her hostess were sitting chatting in 
the drawing-room in Prince's Gardens; and the con- 
versation turned upon Miss Vipart's general discontent 
with life. 

" You should marry," remarked Isabel " You'd find it 
the only permanently amusing entertainment And 
you can't think how much more cosy and cheerful it 
makes everything." 

Fabia looked lazily at her hostess through half-dosed 
eye-lfds. 

"You didn't always think so^ for you wera in no 



4a }n SnMectfon 

ipecUl hurry to get married yourself: yon muit have 
been nearly thirty." 

"Horrid little thing!" exclaimed iMbel to hertelC 
"I'll tell Paul that the very minute he comes in." 

The recital to Paul of Fabia's daily iniquities wu 
one of the chief delights of Isabel's life just now, and a 
wonderful support to her in the endurance of such an 
incubus. But all that she said aloud was, "Twenty- 
nine." And she said it quite good-humouredly. 

Fabia smiled. " You have an admirable temper, 
Isabel." 

Isabel had insisted upon FaUa'a calling her by her 
Christian name the moment she arrived. Paul had 
said privately to his wifw %hr.t he considered this a 
mistake, but had been overruled. Now Isabel was 
never tired of telling Paul how much she wished Fabia 
would call her Mrs. Staton, as she couldn't bear 
people who didn't like her to call her Is(diL 

"I know; ifs a regular beauty," she replied. "I'm 
not sure that I ever met anybody with a better one^ 
taking it all round. I often take it out of its cage and 
stroke it, to show how tame it ii. That i» to say, except 
where Paul is concerned. I used to be perfectly 
vile to him when we were engaged; a r^ular little 
devil 1" 

"But why?" 

" I haven't a notion." 

" You were in love with him, weren't you ? " 

" Of course. That was the reason." 

" That is absurd — simply absurd I If ever I were so 
foolish as to be in love with a man — or so wise— I 
should be an angel to him all the time." 

•' Naturally ; because you aren't an angel to anybody 
else. I was." 



TCDe Sconree of tbe KeD OotD 



43 



An expresiion of languid amusement ipread itself 
over Fabia's face. Although she was at war with 
Isabel in her heart, she was usually entertained by the 
conversation of the latter. The difference between the 
two women was this: FaUa sometimes was conscious 
of Isabel's charm; Isabel never was conscious of Fabia's. 
Fabia could have loved Isabel had she allowed herself 
to do so ; Isabel had tried to love Fabia and had failed. 
Yet Isabel was invariably kind to Fabia, and Fabia was 
often very unkind to Isabel Such are the ironies of 
feminine friendship. 

"I &il to see the sequence of thought," she said. 
" Please explaia" 

"Haven't you noticed that amiable women are 
generally cross with the men they love; and cross 
women are generally amiable with the men they love ? 
I once asked a tremendously wise and clever man the 
reason of thif" 

"And what did he say?" 

" I forget what he said, but I remember what I said : 
and that was that we offer the greatest rareties as the 
greatest luxuries to our guests, on the same principle as 
we give them strawberries in December and ice in June. 
So that the good-tempered woman's bad temper, and 
the bad-tempered woman's good temper are special 
delicacies." 

"All the same I cannot imagine your being bad- 
*.■■ . ipered and disagreeable. It would be altogether out 
ol drawing." 

Isabel's easy good-humour was a constant source of 
wonder to Fabia : being made herself on such different 
lines, she had no idea how easy it was. 

Mrs. Seaton nodded sagely. " Can't you 7 You just 
ask Paul" 



9n SnMectloit 



Don't you know him 



* He wouldn't tell me If I did. 
better than that?" 

" Of course he wouldn't That's where husbands are 
•o splendid. They always stick up for you whether 
you're right or whether you're wrong; in fact rather 
more when you're wrong than when you're right They 
consider that is playing the game." 

"So it is." 

« I often wonder," continued Isabel, In a meditative 
manner, "what Paul really thinks of me. He can't 
possibly think as highly of me as he seems to do, 
because nobody could; nobody else even pretends 
ta And yet he knows me better than anybody else 
does. It's queer I You can't help admitting that it's 
queer!" 

Fabia laughed softly. " Very queer Indeed I " 

" And there are plenty of other queer things besides," 
continued Mrs. Seaton, waxing more communicative. 
"I used to think, before I was married, that when 
husbands and wives pretended they didn't see each 
other's faults it was all humbug. But now I find that 
It wasn't Of course it Is utterly absurd, I know ; but 
all the same, if s true;* 

« I don't believe it If I had a husband I should see 
his faults fast enough; I couldn't help it even if I 
tried." 

^'Ye% you could. You couldn't help not helping 

" But I should feel such a fooL" 

"And you would be; that's the beauty of it" And 
Isabel laughed a rippling little laugh of pure happiness. 
"That's why married life is so good for one," she con- 
tinued ; '• you find yourself doing the very things that 
you've screamed with laughter at other women tot 



tCbe ■cowroc of tfee Ve5 Ooib 



45 



dcrfng; and thb teachei you, better than a whole 
libraiy or leiton-booka or a complete course of Oxford 
Extension lecturea, that you are not one whit better or 
wiser than anybody else." 

" But that is a loson I should bate to learn," objected 
Fabia, who was one of the women who derive a painful 
pleasure from the notion that no one ever felt as they 
feel, or suffered as they suffer. 

Although she hated her solitariness, she was in a sense 
proud of it, human nature having a strange knack of 
feeling pride in its own deficiencies as well as in its own 
excellencies. Delicate people are as proud of their 
delicacy as strong ones are of their strength ; and small 
men are as proud of their light weight as big ones are of 
their bulk. Life is full of compensations ; and our own 
good conceit of ourselves is by no means the least of 
these. 

"It is no use hating things if you've got to learn 
them," replied Isabel, with her usual sound sense ; " it 
only makes life more unpleasant than it need be, and 
does nobody any good. Nowadays we are all wise 
enough to gild our pills with a silver coating, and never 
to serve them au naturtl," 

" But don't you hate to find that you are the same as 
other people ? " 

" Not a bit of it ; I enjoy the joke ; and the fact that 
it is at my own expense makes me enjoy it all the more, 
as I can understand better than anybody else can how 
excessively funny it is." Wherein Mrs. Seaton spoke 
no less than the truth ; for she was one of the happy 
beings — and their name is by no means Legion — who 
derive unfeigned and solid pleasure from a joke at their 
own expense. Such persons are rare; and they are 
almost dways feminine. A man who laughs heartily and 



4< 9n SnMectioii 

naturally at his own absurdity, is a very black swan 
indeed. Men smile, it is true, at these ill-timed and 
inappropriate jests ; but the smiles are generally of that 
sickly and watery character which reminds one of a sun- 
set on a rainy day. Nine women out of ten do not 
even smile at humour whereof they themselves are the 
unwilling butts : they frown and glower and sulk ; but 
the tenth woman not only smiles but laughs with all 
her heart, holding her sides in the exuberance of her 
mirth as no man has ever held his at fun poked at 
himself. And Isabel Seaton happened to be the tenth. 
"You didn't really know,me before I was married," she 
continued, with that irresistible candour which had ever 
been one of her greatest charms; "so you've no idea 
how egregiously conceited I was, and how much cleverer 
I thought myself than anybody else — or, in fact, than 
anybody else thought me either; and therefore you 
can't understand what a killing joke it is to see me 
developing into the ordinary, commonplace, domestic, 
and devoted wife. It makes me laugh every time I 
think of it Doubtless it is very romantic when the 
ugly duckling turns into the snow-white swan; but the 
real joke comes in when the protr><sing cygnet develops 
into the humdrum barn-door fowl And that is my 
case to a T. I've become very humdrum and excessively 
barn-door; but I've got the saving grace left to see that 
if s funny." And Isabel laughed softly to herself <* As 
long as you are fiinny and know that you are fiinny, you 
aren't— well, you are not quite so funny as you would 
otherwise have been." 

" I do not understand you at all. I could not go on 
doing a thing that I knew was ridiculous. I might be 
ridiculous without knowing it ; I suppose everybody is 
sometimes ; but I would rather die than be ridiculous 



TCbe Scottcoe ot tbe IRed Coed 



47 



consciously. I hate to be langhed at; it is absolute 
torture to me." 

Isabel nestled Into her easy-chair with that snug 
cosiness of hers wliich formed such a marked contrast 
to Fabia's lithe grace; 

"Then you make a great mistake. Half the fun of 
life consists in seeing how funny yon are yourself, and 
in watching other people find it out." 

But Fabia still looked puzzled. As she liad said, it 
was torture to her to be laughed at, for she was one of 
those supersensitive souls who are not shielded by a 
saving sense of humour; therefore Isabel's attitude of 
mind was incomprehensible to her. Perhaps the fact 
that one woman had been bom inside the red cord and 
the other outside, accounted for the phenomenon in both 
cases. 

" I used to roar with laughter," remarked Isabel, " at 
women who couldn't see their husband's faults : it used 
to seem too utterly idiotic for anything. And yet now, 
though I see Paul's mistakes and limitations, I cannot 
discover his faults I I know they must be there, 
like Mrs. Wilfer's petticoat, because everybody has 
them and nobody is an exception ; but try as I will, I 
can't find them out I " 

" You are candid at all events," remarked Fabia, who 
was as yet too young to decide whether to despise her 
friend for being a fool, or to admire her for confessing 
it According to the poet Gray, the boys at Eton had 
learned the truth that sometimes " 'tis folly to be wise"; 
but the soundness of the inverse platitude that some- 
times 'tis wisdom to be foolish, is never grasped by 
those on the so-called sunny side of thirty. 

"I always try to be, for there's nothing I hate so 
much as humbug and affectation. There's too much of 



4i Sn SnMectf0R 

that gfrfng about nowadays, my dear Fabia, especially. ,,i 
the subject of marriage ; and I want yon to be on your 
guard against it, and not to be choked off any really 
nice match just because of the nonsense preached by 
silly women and modem novels; which brings me 
to the point of the conversation from which I started. 
I generally get round to my sUrting-point, if you only 
give me time." 

"Like the oft-quoted boomerang," suggested Fabia, 
thus setting her loquacious hostess upon a fresh tack. 

"Oh I my dear, there's no greater delusion than the 
idea that boomerangs invariably travel with a return- 
ticket We've got one in the comer of this very 
drawing-room, which was once given me by someone 
who had been to Australia (if that is where boomerangs 
grow); I forget who it was ; I remember it was someone 
who was in love with me at the time, but I can't for the 
life of me recall his name. Anyway, I thought it rather 
an interesting object to hf.ve about— the sort of thing 
that promotes conversation, don't you know? — so when 
we came to live here I stuck it up at the back of the 
cosy-comer, supported by two Venetian glass vases 
that somebody else, whom I've forgotten, gave us for a 
wedding-present" 

■ I have seen it Happily Captain Gaythorae caught 
sight of it one day when he was being even duller than 
usual, and it started him on quite an intelligent 
description of his travels in India— that being the 
nearest to Australia that he could manage." 

"That is just what it was put there fori Every 
drawing-room ornament should have in it the germ of a 
conversation ; it is its raisoH etttrt. I suppose that is 
why country-people have on their chimney-pieces 
bunches of the plant called Honesty. It gives them an 



Vbe scomoc at tbc Keb aot& 



49 



opportunity of expatiatinc upon that overrated virtue, 
and of so drifting into the unirenal pleasure of telling 
unpleasant truths to one's friends and neighbours." 

" I remember he discoursed exhaustively upon the 
time-honoured subject of booo'erangs, and told long 
tales of how they invariably came back, like curses, to 
roost," continued Fabi^. 

"Do they ? That's all he knows I If you so much 
as breathe when you are anywhere near to ours, it at 
once tumbles behind the cosy-corner, breaking any 
wedding-presents that it comes across on its way. And 
thendoesit comeback to where it started from? Not a 
bit of it I It remains io retreat, like a devotee, until 
somebody breaks their own bones and more weddmg- 
presents by creeping under the seat of the cosy-comer 
to fetch it out I know its little ways." And Mrs. 
Seaton shook her head reflectively. 

" If yoa have many friends like Captdn Ga)rthome 
I do not wonder that you select drawing-room 
ornaments that start conversation," said Fabia, with 
that touch of sarcasm which generally flavoured her 
remarks. Yet on the iriiole she liked Captain 
Gaythome— liked him better than anyone she had as 
yet met since she came to England. She was by no 
means the first woman who has abused men because 
she liked them, and gone near spoiling her own life »nd 
theirs accordin^y: nor will she be the last It is 
ezrely a symptom of a certain sort of shyness ; and 
not the worst sort of shyness, either. 

But Isabel was not the woman to appreciate or 
sympathize with shyness of any kind. 

'• Now, 1 wont have yon abusing Charlie Gaythome," 
she cried. "I won't allow it in my drawing-room 
under the shadow of my own boomerang! Charlie 



5* 9tt SoMectfon 

b my darling, u you have probably heaid befora, or 
wordi to that effect; and betides, he is one of the mea 
that I want you to marry." 

The girl winced. She hated Isabel's easy, half- 
insolent way of disposing of her as if she were a parcel 
of foreign imports; and yet there was a sort of 
attractiveness about the insolence, it was so good- 
humoured. She was beginning to understand why her 
father liad once wanted to many this woman. It was 
the same sort of reason which, in a minor degree, had 
mtuHt him enjoy a sharp wind and a cold bath: a 
reason which n« pMT* Oriental could ever have com- 
prehended. Biit Fabia was no pure Oriental : there 
was a strong .'traia of Western thought and feeling in 
her composition, and it was probably her Eastern sense 
of reserve and mystery underlying her Western inclina- 
tion towards all that was essentially British and modem, 
that endowed the girl with so strong a fascination— 
the fascination ef incongruity made congruous. That 
she posMwsed faKination there was no doubt ; but it 
was a personal magnetism, not an intellectual one. 
Those who merely read her history will probably find 
her without charm; but those who rati her £kcc to 
face felt it in the very marrow of their bor.es. 

" You are alwajrs wanting people to get married," she 
said. " It seems to be your one idea of entertainment" 
" I believe it is the only thing that permanently 
amuses anybody," repeated Isabel 
•■ And it fails to do even that with some." 
« Now, Fabia, as I said before, I won't allow yon to 
get absurd modem notions about matrimony. It is the 
fashion nowadays to pretend that most marriages are 
unhappy ; but Uiey're not — not a bit of it" 
" You think it is all pure affectation ? " 



Vbe Scotttoe «f tbe mtb Cord 



s« 



<■ I think it Is all pure rat." replied Mrs. Se«ton, with 
more force than elegance "We are told all sort of 
nonsense about marriage being increasingly difficult 
under modem conditions, etc., and all sort of silly ways 
are si^gested of untying the knot. As if modern 
conditions cancelled Divine Ia« 1 1 Some things alter 
as times change, and some things don't : and Command- 
ments are among the things that don't We may need 
a new Bradshaw every month ; but we don't need a 
new Bible." 

" Then do you mean to say that you do not believe 
that it is far more difficult for us to find happiness in 
marriage than it was for our grandmothers ? " persisted 
Fabia, who had sufficiently saturated her mind with 
current literature to have caught the taint of certain 
phases of modem thought 

" Not an atom I " replied Ii^Pi with fine scorn. " It 
is merely the fashion nowadays for women to pretend 
that they don't fear God or love their husbands ; while, 
as a matter of fact, ninety-nine women out of every 
hundred do both. We can't help doing it: ifs what 
we were made for. A woman who at the bottom of 
her heart doesn't fear God and love her husband, is a 
freak ; and the place for freaks is Baraum's." 

"Then do you fear God and love your husband?" 
asked Fabia. 

" Yes ; with all my heart And, whaf s more, I'm not 
ashamed of it, as so many women are. Ashamed of it^ 
indeed I Why, the sun might just as well be ashamed 
of shining or the moon of giving light, as a woman of 
doing thft two things for which she was created." 

" If I had a husband," Fabia remarked, " I should 
never let him know how much I loved him." 

" Shouldn't you ? I know better." 



$• 



^^9 •W^j^^^^^^V* 



And ImM wfabtied loftlf to htndf, In a nunMr at 
once inelQKant and expressive. 

" Na I should just wear his heart upon my sleeve, 
and peck at it whenever I Celt inclined," Fabia persisted ; 
"but I should never let him know what was in mine." 

" So I used to think In my single days ; but when 
you're married, youll find the sleeve Is on the other leg, 
so to speak. He'll weujmtr heart upon his sleeve, and 
do whatever he likes with It ; but he won't peck at it, 
because men aren't pecking animals. And youll love 
to have it so." i 

FaUa smiled. She was again reminded of her father 
and his cold baths and windy rides. 

" And so you want me to marry that stupid Captain 
Gaythome? Surely he is too stupid to want to marry 
me?" 

" Not he I He adul0>oii, and he'd be an exodlent 
husband." 

It was characteristic of Isabel diat she did not say 
^^x even think— tiiat he would also be an excdlent 
match. 

FaUa noticed this omlssfa>n, and pat It down In her 
own mind to Isabel's credit There was a strain of fine 
unworldliness about this finiriied woman of the world 
that highly commended itself to a girl brought up as 
Fabia had been. In the whole of Isabel's complex 
nature there was not one grain of snobbishness: some- 
what rare praise to be given to the sons and danghters 
of Western nations, and Fabia acomded It ungrudgiiq^. 

" But he has got a ftoe like a cherub's," she objected. 

* He has got a much bettor figure than a dtemb's," 
retorted Isabel 

« I 4on't know that a cherub has a bad figu ii i mhat 
there is of It" 



«be Scoatfle of tbe Veb Cot» sa 

•Bat there's plenty of CharHe't figiii»-nich u it 1*- 
At that moment the butler flung open the door 
■nnoundng, "Mrs. Gaythome and Captain Gaythome." 
^.. .^ °^ ** "S^'* **"• *« <'«vil b^ni wagging hia 
tall, mnranred Isabel under her breath, as she rose to 
raoeiveher visiton. 



CHAPTER IV 



THB GAYTHORNES 

Fabia was right when she said that Charlie Gaythorne 
had the face of a cherub; and Isabel was still more 
correct when she asserted that he had not the figure of 
one. He was one of those huge men, with the form 
and strength of an athlete and the complexion and 
heart of a little child, who are essentially a home- 
product, and flourish nowhere save in British soil 
Even more typically than Isabel herself, he represented 
the deniiens of that happy land which lies securdy 
within the precincta of the red cord. For over five 
centuries the Gaythomes had dwelt at Gaythorne 
Manor in the county of Mershire, and had done there 
whatsoever seemed right in their own eyes. In fact 
in the eyes of all Mershire whatsoever a Gaythorne 
did became right simply because it was done by a 
Gaythorne : so that it would have been diflScult— not 
to say impossible— for a Gaythorne to do wrong. 

But the Gaythomes were no unworthy race, trailing 
their honour in the dust and using their liberty as a 
cloak for lower things. They appreciated the duties 
and the responsibiUties of their local infcllibflity as 
seriously as any Pope could have done; and fulfilled 
and accepted them accordingly. They were one of the 
families that make us realiae the advantages of the 
S4 



ttbe 0astborne» 



SI 



feudal lyitera at it txlited in the Middle Age* ; and 
that it bad iu advantages there is no doubt The 
Gaytborae men had ever been strong-limbed, ligfat- 
complexioned, and ciMn-liTing, fearing God and 
bonouriiv the King as all true squires should: and 
the dames of their choice bad ever been (air women, 
not without discretion withal, whose husbands and 
children had risen up and called them blessed. 

Of intellectual giits to this worthy house Nature 
perhaps had been sparing. No Gaythome had ever 
written books, or painted pictures, or intruded his fingers 
into the pies of State. There was little originality or 
individuality in this blameless fiunily's records: each 
Squire Gaythome had been tJU Squire Gaythome of his 
day — neither more nor lass ; oarli had been one of a 
set. rather than a unique specimen. An excellent 
match to the rest of the set, it is true, but not 
interesting as a personality. 

Charlie's father had been a perfect instance of tbe 
accepted Gaythome type ; too perfect for there to be 
any^ing else to be said about him. He died just after 
an Indian firontier war, in which Charlie had won 
distinction and nearly lost an arm ; whereupon Charlie 
left the service and entered into his kingdom ; and was 
now reigning at Gaythome Manor, with his mother as 
Grand Visier. 

Charlie had a very high opinion of his mother. So 
had she. There were few, if indeed any, matters small 
or great, upon which Mrs. Gaythome did not feel 
herself competent to give an opinion: and Mrs. 
Gaythorne's opinions were of the same nature as Ro]ral 
invitations; they were expected to be received as 
commands. She had been — and still was — a fine- 
looking woman, of the stately and statuesque order - 



9n SttMection 



and it would be difficult to say whether she moit 
resembled a higlily religious Juno or a somewhat 
worldly Madonna. She was not exactly clever; but 
had a way of enunciating common-place remarks with 
such force and authority that few of her hearers 
recognised them as platitudes. She was a very good 
woman according to her lights; and though those 
lights might be lamps of a somewhat antiquated 
pattern, they had proved themselves safe and sure 
lanterns to guide more than one pair of wandering fset 
into the way of peace. 

Mrs. Gaythome invariably dressed la black, thereby 
showing respect for her husband's memory, and for S. 
Peter's injunction as to female dress at the same time. 
But her broad and ample bosom was as gay as any 
flower-garden with various and many-coloured ribbons 
testifying to the various virtues she adorned. She wore 
a blue ribbon to show she was temperate, and a white 
ribbon to show she was chaste ; a yellow ribbon to 
show she was Conservative, and a green ribbon to show 
she was kind; an orange ribbon to show she was 
Protestant, and a purple ribbon to show she was 
truthful ; and so on and so on through the whole prism 
of the primary and secondary and even tertiary virtues. 
Not that there was any need for the aid of these 
coloured illustrations to pre - to the most superficial 
observer that Mrs. Gaythome was all— and even more 
than all— that she should be ; but she wore them, as 
she herself explained, for the force of example. She 
was a sort of religious decoy-duck, decking herself in 
those moral feathers which are popularly supposed to 
produce moral birds. If Mrs. Gaythome wore a ribbon, 
all the woaien in Gaythome village were expeOed to 
wear it also; and, moraoMr, to practise that inward 



w>t9ntbocnc$ 



$1 









and ipiritual graot whereof it wm the outward and 
vliible aign : a practice whicli did not come quite lo 
euy to some of them aa it did to the lady of the manor. 

Now in Charlie Gaythome'i life up to the preient 
time there had only happened three events of import- 
ance — the war in the Indian frontier, his father's death, 
and his meeting with Fabla Vipart It was these three 
things that had made a man of him. With the first 
two this story has not to deal ; but without the last it 
could hardly have been writtea 

The moment that Captain Gaythome saw Fabia's 
face he fell in love with it, and with her in her official 
position as its owner. Of the subtlety of her intellect 
he knew nothing at all, and cared less; it was enough 
for him, and more than enough for his peace of mind, 
that she was beautiful; and beautiful without doubt 
she was. 

There is a theory abroad among women that the love 
which is founded upon intellectual gifts is more enduring 
than the love which Is founded upon personal attrac- 
tions. Probably it does wet>r well, as pU stiff and rather 
wiry materials do; but softer ano urmer stuffs wear 
well also. The love that wears best of all— in fact the 
only love that ts really worth having — is not the love 
that loves my love with B. because she is beautiful, 
nor the love that loves my love with C because she is 
clever; but the love that love's my love with an S. 
because She Is She, an . I am I, and we two are our- 
selves—and therefore each other — fw all time and 
eternity. There Is no better reason for love than this ; 
which is still the better for being no reason at all. 

Captain Gaythome had not only fallen in love with 
Fabia ; he had made up his mind to marry the woman 
whoa he loved if the woman whom he feared apfiroved. 



,« Sn SttMccttoN 

And It WM with the hope of obtaining thii tppnml 
th«t he had brought Mr*. Gaythome to call at Prince'f 
Garden! thii very afternoon, to be introduced to the 
lady of hlf choice. It was characterirtie of Charlie- 
end therefore of all the Gaythomea— that the woman 
upon whoM probable coni«»t depended Ua propoMl, 
wu not the woman to whom he wlriied to propoa^ but 
hto mother. It never even occurred to him that FaWa 
might object to marrying him ; but it occurred to him 
with uncomfortable periiitence that Mri. Gaythorne 
might object to hU m^ng Fabia. And he felt 
that he could never make his offer of marriage If 

Yet Charlie had woa a D.S.O. in India, and had 
been accounted a brave and dangeroui enemy by the 
nativeal Thua do oar fismale relations make cowarda 

° Iiabel duly introduced Fabia to Mra. Gaythorne, and 
then rang the bell for tea. At leaat ihe let out w,U» 
the intention of ringing the bell, but Charlie, with his 
accustomed politenesa, insUted on forestalling her ; and, 
with unaccusiomed haste and nervousness, succeeded in 
upsetting the boomerang, three vases, two phot^raphs 
and a bunch of pampas-grass in the attempt He was 
eager to repwr his crime by picking them up again ; 
but Isabel wisely begged him to forbear, and to upset 
nothing more; as she said she did not see the use of 
throwing good ornaments after bad onea-espeoaUy 
when the ornaments happened to belong to her. 

" I shall be glad of my tea," remarked Mra. Gaythom^ 
when the commotion had subsided; "I am thirsty. 
She spoke as impressively as if she w«« announcing 
somegreat scientific truth, "^•"rj'^^r .^ 
the chair at the annual meeting of the Soatty lor tne 



Vbc tfuvtbocncf 



S9 



f ropagation of the Church Hymnal amoni tha Inhabi- 
tanU of the Antarctic Circle, and am now on my way 
to preside at the annual meeting of the And-Toroato 
League, for the rappraiaion of tooutoaa ai an article 
of diet; and consequently I require a littie refreahment" 
Mra. Gaythorne was guttty of one human frailty, 
namely, an inordinate afftction for praaiding over 
public meetinga. On thia matter the knew neither 
temperance nor restraint As some women take 
atimulantt and othen aedativea, ao Mrs. Gaythorne 
took chairs. 

" I never partake of this delicious beverage," the good 
lady remarked when at last her fleshly cravings had been 
satisfied, "without thinking of the teeming millions in 
China who still dwell ia outer darknew ; and without 
thanking the goodaeaa and the grace which saw fit to 
plant me in so much more fitvourable surroundings- 
favourable alike to my natural and spiritual coDdltkm, 
Charles, the muffins." 

Charlie hastened to lift a hot plate of these delicacies 
from the fireplace, and offer them to his hungry parent 
This manoeuvre he carried out successfully, as be was 
gradually gaining strength and confidence, and was far 
less nervous than when he entered the room. At 
present all had gone smoothly between his mother 
and the young lady she had been brought to inspect; 
aa he (^ased it to himself. «They were getting on 
like a house oo fire." True, the conversation had 
hitherto confined itself to such topics as might have 
been selected on the occasion of a visit from a ther- 
mometer to an aneroid ; namely, the present weather 
and temperature, and the prospects of more weather 
and temperature in the future ; but the interdiaage of 
such items of atmospheric infiwrmatjon a» bad been 



*• 9n Sabfecnon 

puUIc propertr for the last twenty-four houn, waa 
carried on Ja so cordial a epirit that Charlie's spirits 
rose considerably. His mother, too, was eridently 
enjoying her tea, which was a good sign. But, alas I 
her carnal needs having been supplied, she unfortunately 
turned to higher subjects. 

"Isabella, have you seen anything of Gabriel Carr 
lately?" she suddenly inquired, in her impressive 
voice. 

" Yes, Mrs. Gaytbome. He was having tea with me 
last Sunday, and was ^ charming and delightful ai 



id on a Sunday, too ? I should have 
clergyman might have been better 



"Having tea. 
thought that 
employed." 

Isabel hastened to defend her fnend. 

" He «« better employed, as it happened ; he had 
been preaching in the afternoon at S. Cuthberf s, and 
was going on to preach at S. Hilda's, so he called and 
had tea on his way, in order not to waste his time by 
going back home," 

" I cannot approve of Sunday visiting for clei^men j 
they ought to be prqnring their sermons in the in- 
tervals between delivering them, and not to be wasting 
the time in eating and drinking. Charles^ aaotber 
muffin ; and you, Isabella, I will trouble Coy ' third cup 
of tea. I fed quite exhausted after my speech upon 
Antarctic Hymnology ; and I shall never be able to do 
justice to the Anti-Tomato question anlots I am fully 
fortified." 

The diidfiil Charles hasUned to hitify his mother, 
■asisted by Isabel: ud the ezceUaat lady calmiy 
continued: 

"1 am distraaaad— deeply diftrea«ed-~4o bear that 



Vbe Oavnomct ti 

Gabrld hu Introduced flowers upon the Communion 
Table at his own Church; real flowers" she added, as 
If artificial ones would have been less heinous in her 
eyes. 

"And why on earth shouldn't he? " 4enianded Isabel, 
who was nothing if not courageous. 
" Because it is Popish— and therefore wrong." 
" That doesn't follow. In the first place, I don't agrae 
with you that it is even what you call Popish ; but even 
if It were, that wouldn't prove that it was wrong. The 
two terms are not synonymous. You might just as well 
say that because a thfaig was Protestant, it was therefore 
right" 

" That Is precisely what I should say, Isabella. More- 
over, the Romans are so narrow and bigoted, believing 
that no man Is right except themselves; and we all 
know tiut narrowness and bigotry are most 
un-Christian." 

"They certainly are, Mrs. Gaythome. But, all the 
same, I cannot agree with you In calling things Roman 
which are merely Catholic" 

Charlie moved In his chair uneasily. He did not 
want to many Isabel, so It did not much matter what 
her religious opinions were ; but, all the same, he wished 
she wouldn't inflame his mother— and just when things 
seemed going so smoothly, too. 

" Isabella," exclaimed Mrs. Gaythorne, "I am surprised 
•tjroul You ought to know better I" 

"I do know better: thafs what I'm jnst saying," 
retorted the graceless one, with a laugh. 

"Miss Vipart," said Mrs. Gaythome, turning so 
suddenly upon Fabia that that young lady fairly 
jumped, "I trust that you do n«t approve of 
Ritnalism." 



9n Snbiecttoii 



"Not at all," repKed Fabia. with lome troth: and 
Charlie breathed freely again. 

" I am glad to hear that— very glad : it it a terrible 
snare to the young." 

By "the young* Mrs. Graythome was referring to 
Isabel; but naturally Fabia did not grasp this. 

"Why to the young especially?" she innocently 
asked. 

" Because the young are foolish and ignorant, being 
sadly prone to run at'ter any new &d that takes their 
f^iacy. Charles, what is the time? I must on no 
account be late for th^ Anti-Tomato meeting." 

" Half-past five, mother. Shall I call you a cab?" 

" Not for another ten minutes. My meeting does not 
begin until six o'clock ; and I consider it just as much 
a sin against the true spirit of punctuality to be too 
early as too late. Isabella, I repeat that I do not 
undeiitand your present attitude of mind." 

"Probably noC replied Isabel "Still, Mrs. Gay 
tbome, I repeat that if, as you say, Gabriel Carr has 
flowers upon the Altar, I think he is quite right" 

"I did not say so, Isabella; how can you so misinterpret 
me ? I said upon the Communion Table." And Mrs. 
Gaythome looked stem. 

But Isabel stuck to her guns. 

" If it is right for us to beauify our own houses with 
flowers, why isn't it r^ht to beautify God's House ? " 

" I consider that even in our own dwellings things of 
that kind are apt to harbour dust" And Mrs. Gaythome 
glanced significantly at Isabel's overturned pampas-grass. 

The latter could not help l|iughing. 

"Naturally, when they are strewn upon the floor; 
but yon will do me the justice to admit that this was 
my miaCartuoe and Charlie's fault Gabriel's flowua 



TCbe tfa^tbornet 



«3 



are not strewn upon the floor, you see; «nd it ii 
Gabriel's flowers that we are discussing." 

"Are thejr not, Isabella? There you make a great 
mistake I have heard — and upon veiy good authority 
—that upon Palm Sunday Gabriel actually did have 
bis Church strewn with willow-branches, which he 
chose to call palma Willow-branches, mark you, 
actual willow-branches; and that seems to me even 
worse than having flowers upon the Communion Table. 
Miss Vipart"— here Fabia jumped again— "you will 
agree with me, I am sure ; I think you said you were 
not a Ritualist" 

"No; but still, Mrs. Gaythome, you can hardly 
consider me an authority on such questions, as I am 
not a Christian." 
Mrs. Gaythome Wrly bounced in her chair. 
"Not a Christian, Misi Vipart? Surely I cannot 
have heard you aright" 

Here poor Charlie interposed, wondering what evil 
spirit had prompted Fabia's untimely confession, to 
lore both her and himself to their destructioa 

" Never mind, motiier, what she is : she's all right— 
'pon my soul, she is 1 And youll be awfully late for 
your meeting if yoa don't go at once." 

His mother brushed him aside as if he had been an 
irritating midge. 

" Silence Charles, I have yet four minutes." Then 
turning again to FaWa: "Do I undersUnd you to say 
that yon are a heathen, Miss Vipart ? " 
"Practically so^ I am afraid." 
" Then how do you expect to be saved ? " 
" I don't expect it I don't expect anybody to be 
saved— not you nor I nor anybody else." 
Here Charlie gasped, and even Isabel held her bmth 



9ii SBbfcctloii 



i 



The mere Idei of not expecting Mn, Gtytiionie to be 
saved seemed almost stupendous in its blaspliemy. 
Poor Cliariie felt that all was over between himsdf and 
Fabia; and Isabel considered that whatever punish- 
ment the affronted lady chose to inflict upon the culprit, 
would be well deserved. So they both waited in 
helpless silence to see what form the merited 
chastisement would take. 

But they had reckoned without their host 

Mrs. Gaythome rose from her chair and walked 
majestically across thfc room to where Fabia was sitting, 
and laid her beautiful hand upon the girl's shoulder. 

"My dear," she said, and her voice was no longer 
stem, but reminded Charlie of what it used to be 
when he was ill as a little boy; " I should like to see 
more of you, and to help you. If 3rou will come to my 
house I will read to yaa and pray with you and do all 
that I can — under God — ^to teach you to be Hi* cUld" 
Then, before the other three coui J recover from tiieir 
astonishmeat: "Charleit my cab. It is twenty minutes 
to six." 

Charlie and Isabel were dnmWbundefcd They 
thought tiiey knew Mrs. Gaythorae out and out ; but 
they had never calculated upon her behaving in this 
way. They were altogether out ct their reckoning. 
For they had foigotten that there is a power stronger 
than prejudice or bigotiy w invincible ignonmce — a 
power which constrains men and women to^y, as it 
constrained the apostles of oU — the power of tfae love 
ofCbfiM. 



CHAPTER V 



POLITICAL LIFE 

L<)Rp Wrexham was Prime Minister of England at 
rtc time when this story opens. He was a bachelor, for 
reasons which have been told elsewhere: he w^ a 
Premier, for reasons which have not yet been mentioned : 
the principal one of which was that nobody considered 

Zl^^y «uited-and therefore nobody else con- 
sidertd him specially unsuited-for the office; When 
half of a pdibcaJ party is crying out to be governed by 
A and another half is shrieking equally loudly for the 
guidance of a, it happens not infrequentiy that the lot 
finally fUls upon C. for the good reason that he is 

dS^J^K**"t,"",*^'?*^"- Nobody is particularly 
dehghted by his elevation to power - consequently 
nobody else is particularly annoyed by it — ind so 
everybody is pleased all round; or, to speak more 
correctly, is not displeased, perfection of any kind never 
being more than approximate in politics. 

Of coarse many men owe their success fn life to the 
fact ^t they are themselves; but quite as many owe 
t to the fact that they are not somebody eJse-which 
is by no means the same thing, though to the superficial 
it may appear sa i~ ■« 

M.^ Wrexham would never have become Prime 
Minitter because he was what he was: he was raised to 
65 K 



M 9n SnMectlon 

that dignity and honour simply because he wasn't what 
he wasn't Isabel Carnaby once nearly married him 
because he was not Paul Seaton : she also jilted him 
for the same sufficient reason ; and it was this negative 
characteristic of his— this power, so to speak, of not 
being other people — ^that made it possible for a friend- 
ship still to exist between himself and her, and for 
Isabel and her husband to come and stay at Vernacre. 
Had she become Lady Wrexham, there would have 
been no friendship, and no possibility of one, between 
herself and Paul Season. 

One might write a treatise upon the men — and their 
name Is Legion— who are neither A. nor R, but simply 
C They form a large and Influential class of the 
community. They accomplish much In life; but by 
negative rather than by positive means. They own 
more wisdom than charm — more solid sense than strong 
personality. Theirs Is not the magnetic force which 
sways men and subjugates women— which at first sight 
either inesistibly attracts or unaccountably repulses; 
but the staying power which commands respect rather 
than admiration— the gentle reasonaUeness which con- 
vinces rather than compels. These men of the C. 
Division of Society make uninteresting lovers, but 
unexceptionable husbands; they can carry out an 
accepted policy better than they can lead a forlorn 
hope. But usually they are honest men and good 
citlxens ; and almost invariably they are gentlemen. 

Such a man was Lord Wrexham, the Prime Minister. 

At the time of this story the then-sitting Parliament 
had passed iU zenith, and thers was no doubt that its 
successor would insist upon a thorough shuffling of the 
political cards. The party— as is not unusual with 
Llbenl parties— was divided : otherwise Lord Wrexham 



toUUaa%tte c 

would never have been selected as its head. There was 

S^n? r "i ^ h' "'"• * P^" '" ">« CaWnrt must be 
^d th?'. f ^*^"' ** Under-Secretao. for W«J 

party, and the inclusion of Seaton in a Cabinet meant 

L^cv^Jh Tk'"*."^' *^°P*'°" ^y *■>«* Cabinet oHhe 
po hey which he advocated; as, in addition to being an 
aWe man h.mself, he represented a section of the ^y 
too large and influential to be set aside. 

Now Mrs. Paul Seaton was an excellent wife, loving 
and reverencmg her husband with her whole he^ «! 

politics. She had been brought up in the good old 
Whig school by her uncle. Sir Benjamin Farley: and 
being a clever woman, she had not just accepSd JS 

ITh Kr^"^P''*='*^ "^ ^^^'^ tenets TyS 
Aehad been trained-she had carefully weighed them 

mature judgment sets its seal of approval upon tS 
tradihons of youth, those traditionT become fixed 

uZf f, .f "* " •"' •^•'''="'*' '' «"» in-Po^'ble. to 
uproot, as they crown with the sanction of later r«^n 

S^osmS*^ °^r"*'' """"-^^ combinatir^" 

iuld noT'*™"^ '*""«*•" T'>*'*'"°" Seaton's wife 
could not see eye to eye with him on these matters 

a"ct"„^,"*'r"''''*^"'«^*°«'°«^ Shoots 

fn hi rr," !^' ''"' f'i^''*'>' >'°"°e«' *»» her hustand" 
in her ouUook upon life she was older than he, wom«, 

h^politics were those of an elderly man. while his weij 
thoM of a young one. He had still the hopefulness wd 
«tt„«.sm of the knight-errant, who is aWay. ^ 
forth upon marvellous quest, for the righting SttJ 



6t 9n Subjection 

wrong, or the raccoar of the helpless, or the seeing ef 
wonderful and unearthly visions ; while she had already 
learnt that the patching of old garments with new cloth 
often makes the rent worse— that by endeavouring to 
right a wrong, men sometimes increase it— and that the 
time of visions is overpast Paul's certainty that he 
had discovered a panacea for most political and social 
and commercial ills, and his joyous belief in the ultimate 
success of the same, awoke no answering chord in 
Isabel's breast She was just as anxious as he was that 
the country and the party should alike flourish ; she was 
considerably more anxious than he was that Paul Seaton 
should eventually become Prime Minister; but she 
differed from him as to the best means for procuring 
these deshrable ends. She had unbounded admiration 
for her husband's powers — unlimited faith in his 
abilities; but she feared that his over-sanguine dis* 
position would lead him to strike before the iron was 
quite hot enough, and to attempt to seize the prize 
before it was in his grasp. 

Paul's chief end in view was the good of his country : 
Isabel's chief end in view was the advancement of Paul : 
and she was terrified lest in a moment of misdirected 
zeal or misguided altruism he should commit himself to 
a course of action which should eventually militate 
against bis personal success. She hated to disappoint 
him by refusing to share his enthusiasms ; but she hated 
still more to see him, as she thought, preparing dis- 
appointment for himself by building political ^-castles 
as unsubstantial as the pageant of Prospers 

From the bottom of her heart Isabel dreaded the 
continuance of the liberals in power after the General 
Election. She knew that there must be fundamental 
changes in the Government if the country decided on 



poittfcaixtre <, 

W^ •'u "?" y'^ °' "'^^ •dminlftration: 
1^ Wrexham't litting-stUl policy could not last 
through another Parliament The new men with the 
new measures would come to the front ; and she shrank 
fiom the consequence of what this coming to the front 
might meaa Perhaps she was right-perhaps she 
WM wrong : that is not the business of a mere story- 

S5 !k ?^i''"'J'"* "^^ *»» "'"vinced in her oWn 
mmd that the change which her husband and his 
friends were contemplating would, if carried out, result 
in disappointment to themselves and their party, and 
disaster to the countiy at large; and accordingi; she 
onged to induce them to stay their hands. Failing 
ttis, she hoped that the Liberals would be beaten at 
the next Election, and so be provided with a period of 
opposition wherein to learn more about themselves and 
their country than they knew at present 
I S''"j»«^ j'''«l long enough In the political world to 
learn that there-even more than anywhere else— it is a 
mistake to do anything in a hurry. But she had Uke. 
wise Uved long enough in the political world to learn 
that there-even more than anywhere else— men are In 
a hurry to do things; the old men because they are 
old, and the young men because they are youne • the 
young men because there is so much to be done, 
and the old men because there is so litUe time In 
which to do it 

But the man who takes his politics from his wife may 

be a good husband, but he is not a great politician. 

Perhaps he is not altogether the best sort of husband, 

either. Modem novelists may know better, but the 

r'^Li-"""'"''^ '**'^ ^''^ '•»« '•"'band is the head 

K- *t »!u.*'*"/"*'"'P*P'" """y *»''« a w'*d« view, 
but the Bible gives the wife no opUon save to be in 



9n SntjectMi 



■ubjectlon to her hntband The husband hu the rl|^t 
to rule by the most Divine right of kingship ; and a 
king who is afraid to exercise his royal prerogative Is 
hardly the highest type of king. 

Therefore Paul Seaton believed that in certain things 
—politics included— he knew better than his wife ; and 
he acted up to this belief in all uprightness and simplicity 
of heart 

They did not quarrel over the question : they were 
far too good comrades for that ; but they held respec- 
tively their own opinions as to the best way of governing 
the country and of improving its outlook; and they 
talked it all out fully together. Although Paul was 
too much of a man to take his views from his 
wife ready-made, there is no doubt that they were 
considerably modified by Isabel's influence. And no 
blame to him for that I For even the greatest ol 
the Apostles, who was himself a married man, permitted 
that husbands tfiould be won by the conversation ol 
the wives, so long as that conversation was coupled with 
fear. 

One evening after dinner Paul and Isabel were sitting 
alone. Lady Farley having taken Fabia to the opera ; 
and were discussing the present political situation and 
the prospects for the future. 

" You are a faint-hearted fair lady," said Paul ; 
haven't the courage of your convictions." 

<* I haven't the courage of yours, you mean." 

" It comes to the same thing." 

Isabel shook her head. " Not quite." 

" Well, just you wait and see I If we come in 
at the next Election — of which there seems 
possibility ; and if they give me a place in the Cabinet— 
of which there seems every probability ; we shall bring 



'yoa 



again 
every 



polttlcal X4fe 



»i 



about such ■ revolution in domestic policy that the 
country will flourish as it has not flourished for years. 
It will be the dawning oi a golden age." 

But Isabel again shook her head. " You are always 
so sanguine, Paul. The golden age has never dawned 
yet; why should it begin now?" 

" Dearest, you are growing vary Conservative;" 

"Am I ? I don't mean ta But if only you are one 
thing long enough, you suddenly find that you are 
another, the diiTerence between one thing and another 
being merely a difference in time. If you go on being 
a Liberal long enough, you suddenly find yourself a 
ConservaUve ; if you go on being a High-Churchman 
long enough, you suddenly find yourself an Evangelical ; 
If you go on being a young woman long enough, you 
suddenly find yourself an old one. It isn't yourself that 
alters ; you stand still and the world goes round ; so that 
you inevitably get somewhere else by persistently 
stopping where you are." 

"Silly little child! Just wait and i^ what the 
Liberals are going to do, and then you won't be a 
Conservative any longer. You must march with the 
times, my Isabel* 

"I can't I'm getting too old for such violent 
exercise. But, Paul, you always seem to think that 
any change is of necessity an im{»ovement— that 
new lamps are invariably better than old." 

"Well, aren't they? New brooms always sweep 
deaa" 

" And new boots almost always pinch." 

Paul laughed. He was so sure of himself— so sure of 
his convictions— that his wife's warnings rolled off his 
back like water off a duck's. Underneath his somewhat 
staid and serious manner was hidden all the confidence 



T« 



9n SuMection 



of the Mlf-made man ; white lubel'i cheerAil and can- 
leu Ught-heartedneM concealed the half-cynlcal wiidoin 
of the woman of the world. 

"Darling," he laid, with a imile; "yoar peuimltm !■ 
very tunny," 

" And 10 It your optimism, when you come to that," 
retorted IiabeL 

And then they each laughed at each other like a pair 
of happy children. 

Suddenly Paul'i face grew grave. "There is only 
one thing that bothers me," he said 

" And what is that, darling } " Isabel's love was up in 
arms for his succour and defence. 

"Well, the Governorship of Tasmania will be vacant 
shortly; and—" 

Isabel interrupted him. 

"How is that 7 The Gravesends* time Is not nearly up^ 
It seems only yesterday that Lord Gravesend was made 
Governor of Tasmania to comfort him and Eleanor for 
losing the situation of New North Wales, when New 
North Wales decided not to keep a pet Governor of ita 
own any longer." 

"That Is so; but Gravesend's health Is breaking 
down, and they are afraid he will have to resign 
and come home before his time is up. And if the 
Liberals are still in office when that happens, I am 
desperately afraid that Wrexham will offer It te 
me." 

For a minute Isabel's heart stood still. Here was a 
way out of all her troubles, and a vciy pleasant way 
toa She would love above all things to be an 
Excellency, as her aunt had been before her; and then 
—if Paul were busy governing Tasmania— he would 
not be hurrying on those measures for the improvement 



Poltttcal sure 73 

of England, for whicb the did not think the titan 
were yet ripe. She considered that the five yean of 
Colonial Government wonld not only add to her 
ho<l»nd'f practical experience and increaae hit 
ulm InlstraUve ability, but would aUo enable the 
English constituencies to become accustomed to the 
new ideas which the Liberal party-eithc- in office or 
in opposition— intended shortly to formumc 

"Oh I I should adore it," she exclai/ned. 

Paul's face grew still longer. " I was I'fraifl wu 
would. It was that which decided me tl.at 1 co-ildn't 
refuse it if it were offered Moreover, 1 d.jii't think 
that a poor man like myself would be j-istificd in 
refusing such a good thing, from a pecuniary point of 
view, although I'm afraid it would be the end of my 
political career." '^ 

-Not it I You are still a young man; you can 
aflford to wait At the end of live years you would 
be oldo- and -yet not old." She was too wise to 
say "wiser," though the word was on the tip of her 
tongue; 

"Still Gravesend may be able to hang on-at any rate 
until the new Parliament." said Paul, witii his accustomed 
hopefulnew; "and that would decide tiie matter for 
itsdf. Of cours*^ if I were certain Oiat a Liberal 
majority would again be returned at tiie General 
Election, I should be all right in saying 'No'; but 

5! ^"'"^ °"' °^ °^<=e' *"<J I shall have to drop 
my official salary, I don't feel it is fair to you to 
refuse this income and position." 

Isabel came up to him and put het arms round his 
neck. Darlmg, promise me Uiat if it is offered to you. 
you won't refuse." 

She was so certain tijat this would be tiie wisest course 



74 



9n Subjection 



for Mm u well as for her, that the did not hesiUte to 
make the request 

" Of course I promise, mjr owa" 

V/hen she asked him in that tone, there was nothing 
on earth that he would not have promised her. 



CHAPTER VI 



ISABEL'S VIEWS 

The Sectetaty of State for War, Lord Kesterton, was 
dining with the Seatons one evening not very long after 
Fabia's appearance in their midst The party consisted 
of Mr. Greenstreet (a rising author), Miss Vipart, and 
himself: and the conversation, as is usual in political 
circles, turned upon politics. There are no such people 
for talking shop as politicians : there is no shop more 
fascinating to talk; but in every world — be it the 
political, or the literary or the artistic or the 
religious, or any other world that ever was created— 
there is nothing so well worth Ulking as shop; and 
nothing that clever people are more ready, and stupid 
people more reluctant, to discourse upon. 

There is something very weird and strange in the 
ordinary man's deeply ingrained horror of conversing 
upon the one subject, upon which he is competent to 
converse. He appears to consider it a virtue on his 
part to avoid, es if it were the plague, the one theme 
upon which he is at home, and to descant at length upon 
those matters about which he knows absolutely nothing. 
He is obsessed with a wild notion that he will become 
a bore to his hearers if he endeavours to interest them 
in those questions in which he himself is interested : 
litUe recking, poor deluded soul ! that he is in far more 
75 






1* 5n SnDfectlon 

Imminent danger of becoming a bugbear if he strives to 
Instruct them in matters about which they Icnow iar mote 
than he. 

People are never really at their best except when they 
are talking what is commonly called shop : for it is only 
tten that they thoroughly forget themselves, and lose 
themselves in their subject Even a plumber, if he talked 
pure plumb, would be well worth listening to : he might 
enlighten even the most enlightened among us as to why 
he always leaves his inevitable white lead at home, and 
haa to go back again to fetch it before he can do any. 
thing ; and why he usually begins his day's work half 
an hour before dinner-time: and might explain other 
mystenons matters connected with his own peculiar 
profession, which the lay mind has long striven in vain 
to grasp. But Uke him off his own subject, and then 
probably he will be vety poor company indeed. And 
what is true of him is more or less true of us alL 

It must be admitted, however, that women are less 
blameworthy in this respect than men — principally 
because, though frequently less selfish, they are u 
a rule more egotistic They rarely shrink from talking 
pure and unadulterated shop— ' oecially with each 
other. If the shop happens to be in any sense of 
the word a work-shop, all well and good : the talker 
is usually worth listening to ; but if the emporium 
resolves itself into nothing mon; than a cook-shop 
or a baby-linen warehouse— well, then Heaven heb 
the listener I *^ 

All of which brings us back to the starting-point, that 
the Seatons and their guests were talking shop. 

" How long do you think we shall be able to keep 
ourselves in office. Lord Kesterton, with such a mighty 
atom of a majority ? " asked Isabel. " It makes life hard 



Stteve Views „ 

comi ?ome to d£rr '* *"" "*'" "" """^'z «-, 
^ The men of the party oaght to feel flattered. Mr.. 

best to keep it £ £ " ' ''"' '^"^" "^ *«^' 

Gi^tt;::?" '''°'* "°"^ ^"''^'""'•■' «<='aia.ed 

e« "»ogh to Ml, tat m CM K?i Li ™?i2r» ""'' 

Ah r that Is just what a man would think Tn M™ 

aH.SL^7B"tr„r:"fo^ -^".- 
s-hr.;r^r/:rj3i;.rrSr- 



9n Snblectton 



banquet half as much as the dear h'ttle scratch meals 1 
have on a tray in my boudoir before I go to the theatre 
when Paul isn't here." 

"I have long noticed," remarked Mr. Greenstreet, 
"and marvelled at the universal passion of women 
of all classes of society for what they call ' something 
on a tray.' To the masculine mind, things on trays 
are unsatisfying and repellent; but to the feminine 
body they are as the very manna from Heaven. Miss 
Viiwut," he continued, turning to Fabia, " confess that 
you too feel the fascination of something on a 
tray." 

" I do," replied Fabia ; " I confess it unhesitatingly. 
I enjoy quite as much as Mrs. Seaton does our little 
(denies in the boudoir before we rush off to the 
play." 

Greenstreet sighed. "I suspected as much. Bread 
eaten in secret is the favourite food of the normal womaa 
It is merely another proof of her innate distaste for 
everything that is straightforward and above-board." 

" Not a bit of it," retorted the host ; " it is a proof of 
her innate unselfishness. If only her menkind are 
properly cared for, she doesn't care a rap what happens 
to herself." 

" Hear, hear I " cried Isabel from the other end of the 
table. " I have much pleasure in seconding the amend- 
ment of the honourable member. It is our glorious 
unselfishness that is at the root of the tray-system ; no 
woman is capable of the deliberate and cold-blooded 
selfishness of ordering a full, true, and particular dinner 
tot her own consumption. Why, if you remember, even 
Eve couldn't properly enjoy the celebrated apple until 
she'd got her husband to share it with her ; and we are 
all like that, bless our dear little hearts I " 



9MIKVB wevf» „ 

../J«" "^ r" *?'" "*=''«^ *« demoted husband- 
"and no one know, it better than my fortunate seS?" ' 

hJthe i7^t ^'^vf-ng." said Lord Kestcrton. "to 

aZi^t" ^A^t'irr"'.*? •* *•■*'■" «^»^<' "dded 
vreeniireet At a large dinner-party it is inter«it!n« 

and instructive to note the diffSe ^tw^T "hf 

^nversabon of the men whose wives carherw^at 

wSe'Sv^S"'"^ '"^ ~"^'^'-^°" °' ^« -" 
«M^P**f "'!'[ ""*='' ^'^y "'n't hear if they want ta» 

2^ .^S^ """* *° ""^ *PP»«"* «l^bility on 

Slit P^^-house in this way I " exclLed 

<i^'l^^,^^ ^'^y ^'^"^ " Secrets, good Heavens ! 
^tSSt^'^r'^fJ Shethinksthat^heworS;: 
Me the manacles of the model husband, or else mistakJ 

^kt/fr'"',""" ForanunrivaS^terrf 
sprinking a few grain, of sand on the top of her bonnet. 

^d thinking that she thereby successfully hMihSf 

and her fo.bles from the trained eye of man gii mi 

not^^the^ much-maligned ostrich. Lt womlfTovTlJ 

"All the same. Mr. Greenstreet." Fabia persisted 1 

-We^Sen^'rJJ'i""' ^^r^" '*P"«' G^enstreet. 
we.i then, all I can say is that Seaton must be a verv 

«ral w^^l You've been .uying in thi. h^urfj 
several week, now, haven't you?" 



i 1; 



9ii AOfcctfon 



M 



"Yes; five." 

Greenstreet looked thouchtM " A very clever man 
A marvellously clever man I Seaton, I have always 
admired your varied gifts, tut until this moment I never 
did you full justice." 

Isabel laughed with delight She had a great liking 
fot Mr. Greenstreet because he aiways talked nonsense 
to her, and Isabel was one of the women who revel in 
the talking of nonsense. Lord Wrexham had never 
talked nonsense to her ; if he had, she would probably 
by now have been the ]»ife of the Prime Minister, 
instead of only the wife of the Under-SecreUry for 
War. And even Paul did not talk as much nonsense 
to her as she would have liked ; he would perhaps have 
been wiser in his dealings with her if he had not 
always been quite so wise. 

"Seaton," Greenstreet continued, "gifts such u 
yours cannot languish in oblivion; a man with your 
marvellous slow - sightedness and your unparalleled 
dulness of perception cannot M to end your days 
as either Emperor of China or Prime Minister of 
England." 

Here his hostess interrupted him. "Talking of 
Prime Ministers reminds me that you've never answered 
my question, Lord Kesterton. How long is Wrexham 
going to keep the party in oflSce with such a small 
majority?" 

"Considerably longer than anybody else could do in 
Us place," replied Lord Kesterton; "that is all I can 
tell you." 

"Why will Lord Wrexham keep the party in ofBoe 
longer than other people could ?" asked Fabia. 

" Because, my dear young lady, he possesses all the 
qualitia requisite tor an idea! Prime Minister." 



ft^^-^y 'J'"* "' ^^^" continued FabJa. pursuine 
the lubjert. pleued that .be should_if only S f 
moment-have diverted the attention of the sLZ^ 
of SUte for War from Isabel to heraelf •«»^"«^ 

-J^Se^llM** t""' ^K ^"^ K"»«rton replied, 
K-11- ^['' ''^"" '"'^ anything approachlne 

does not love brilliant men." ^^^ 

"Why not?" 

.t,1?^!!f '»r f"*' ^''' ^'P^rt. it doe, not under, 
ttand. and therefore does not trust them. Humal. 
nature rarely trusts what It cannot understand "3 
how can anafon. whose blood is beer and whose bSy 
fa reast-beef. place confidence l„ persiflage ^ Ind 
security m epigram ? " r~ -« w nno 

b^"^^ flt""^ ^'^ ^"! f *"'J' ^ Lord Wrexham 
teJd^thc absence of briUiancy?" Fabia further 

^He I. very pracOcal; a«d he has an admirable 

.u^^'f '* '" admirable temper such an excellent 
thing In statesmen?" asked Gr«„street 
, 1^°*,* excellent." was Lord Kesterton's reply; "a. 
fadeed in everybody els^ The statesman who losS 
hi. temper 1««. his followers; the man who losesIS 
temper loses his friends." 

«d^.rfFabJr* ***"' ^' '"'"*" "^ ''^ ^^ '«"P«"" 

L<wdKesterton bowed with mock gallantly. "There 
fa no such person, my dear young lady. A woman 
never loses her temper." & 7 « woman 

lilrl?**^V *'" """^^ *° ''° something singularly 
like It at times," remarked Greenstreet 

"No," Lord Kesterton repeated; "a woman never 

r 



ffE*' 



'• 9n SuMectfon 

loiei her temper ; she merely now and agalo coodeicends 
to give certain peraona what ahe calla a piece of her 
mind." 

" And what is the difference between doing that and 
losing her temper 7 " 

"The whole difference in the world, my dear Miss 
Vipart : the difference between an involuntary loss and 
a votive offering ; between the payment of a water-rate 
and a libation to the gods." 

" Between having one's pr ;i et picked and giving at a 
collection," added Isabel; and between compulsory 
taxation and the revenues of the S.P.CK." 

" Precisely I " agreed Lord Kesterton. 

« And what other qualities entitle Lord Wrexham to 
be an ideal Prime Minister ? » Fabia went on. 

"He invariably says the obvious thing; and— 
whenever it is possible — does nothing at all The 
great art of popular instruction is to teach pec^le 
what they already know; just as the great secret 
of successful leadership is to learn how to stand 
absolutely still" 

" And what ebe ? " asked Paul, who was enjoying tiiis 
disquisition upon his leader. 

" He is very prudent, and he is very Protestant ; and 
prudence and Protestantism are the two great comer- 
stones of English national life." 
" And very good comer-stones, too," added Paul. 
"It seems to me," remarked Fabia, "that an ideal 
Prime Minister must have all the virtues that begin with 
a P. He must be pradent and patient, and practical 
and Protestant" 

lm.M gave a deep sigh. " I doni think youll ever be 
an ideal Prime Minister, Paul ; because you're not very 
patient and you're not at all prudent, and you never say 



SMter§ Views ij 

Ae obvious Uilng unlets It b the thlnsf that Is obviously 

too good to be true." ' 

Paul endeavoured to clear himself. « Well, anyway, 

PrJS? /'l''t'n ■*''"• "■^'»' y°" •« Charmingly 
Protestant ; but I'm not sure that that Is enough in Itself, 
though of course it is a great deal" Then she put he^ 
head on one side, and looked at her husband through her 
eyelaslMs as If he were some work of art that she was 
appraising "I love my love with a P. because he is 
Protestant, I hate him because he is progressive ; he 
. Pnnces Gardens, lives upon platitudes, his 
name Isjaul, and I'll give him the Premiership for a 

Paul smiled, but he winced a little underneath the 

hitting the nail precisely In the middle of its head. 

My wife is always reproving me for being ..n- 
g»ctiaJ^and idealistic," he said, turning to Lord 

« Is she indeed ? Then you will do well to listen to 
Her, Seaton. Men who are married never lack the 
opportunity of hearing the truth about themselves: 
Md If they are wise men they will sometime, avail 
themselves of it" 

'^ Hear, hear I " applauded Isabel 

"But— with all due deference to my wife and the 
other members of the Government- I cannot give 
up my belief that it is enthusiasm that really makes 
the world go round; I cannot forswear my creed that 
It is In what you call idealism that the hope for the 
future of the race and the nation lies. Surely it is by 
"PPMUng to the highest in human nature that we evoke 
the highest; it Is by treating men as reasonable beings 



«4 9n Snbf ectfon 

thtt w« nuke them reaioaable Mngi ; it ii by ... 

ing them u heroes that we enable them to attain to 
heraiim.* 

Lord Keitertoa nodded his head two or there tlmea 
"PeffaaiM,''wasaUhesaid. 

Paul went on : « I think all you wise and prudent 
people make one initial mistake : you confuse cause and 
effect You believe that men must be trained to bear 
responsibility before they can be trusted with responsi- 
bility ; that they must become good citizens before they 
can act as good dtiiens; in short, that they must never 
be aUowed to wel their Cset until they have learned to 
■wim." 

" It would save a good many lives from drowning U 
that rule were carried out," murmured Isabel, ttUo mm 
But her husband did not hear her. She dU not intend 
thathedumkL 

"Now I maintain,* he continued, his usually grave 
boe ali^t with enthusiasm, "that you are pnttfaig tiie 
cart before the horse. I hold that it is only by being 
entrusted with responsibility, that men learn how to 
use responsiUlity ; that it is only by reading, that a 
man learns how to read; that it is only by walking, 
that a child learns how to walk. I do not believe that 
men perform heroic deeds because they are heroes; 
I believe that they finally become heroes because they 
have got into the habit of performing heroh: deeds. 
Our actkMis are not the outcome of our characters; it 
is our characters that are the result of our actions. A 
Uog is not a king because he knows how to rule; he 
knows how to rule because he is a king." 

"Then your idea is," sakl Kesterton, "that we must 
not withhdd power from any section of the people 
vntil we believe th^ are fit to be entrusted with power; 



Jjt we murtentnut thea with it in order to iwUm them 

!k! ITi ? P?^ ^ •**?'• •»*•. «» niore wisely 
toe mare fit they wUl show themselves to be implicitly 

do«?l?'SS.I" ""^ ~»«» »o« th« I«.bel 

Sfjirv ^^^"^ ''°'"^'- ""« t«8'" Sieving 
ttat every woman u an angel and eveor man a hero ; 
and then when the angel begins to scold, and the her,^ 
fl es in tern* to Us club for refuge. Paul is uttSJ 
Jisgusted. and washes his hands of the i«ir for ev^ 
^^nT:' ^'^f^ «>*« '» 'coward and 

ror It K makes them seem more like relations of ours. 

with a strong family likeness." ^ 

•^It is rather a hard saying on your part to call 

ejoryman a coward." objected Lord Kesterton. much 

able iully to appreciate them when they do perform 
heroic deed* If a hero behaves like a hero. KH 
Z^Vn I ' '*«,""'*''?'? »^»ving likerhen..^„y 
won than a sewing-machine can help behaving like a 
•ewing-machme. or an umbrella can help behaWng Uke 
T,^1X ^"* Im' "^^"^ •uddenJ^'S'lik: 

m an emosency ran op a seam, or if a sewine- 
machine spread sheltering wings to ward oTfhe 



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S6 



3n Subjection 



"The soundness of your reasoning is only surpassed 
by the striking nature of your meUphors," murmured 
Greenstreet 

Isabel continued : « Naturally, then, I am much fonder 
of my shrews and my cowards, who on special and great 
occasioar behave like angels and heroes, than Paul is of 
his heroes and angels, who in everyday life behave like 
cowards and shrews. I always pity and love, and 
am sometimes surprised Into acute admiration he 
always exhorts and demands, and is almost invariably 
disappointed and disgusted." 

"Then," cried Fabia, "you believe that the coward 
who sometimes behaves like a hero, is a liner 
man than the hero who often behaves like a 
coward ? " 

" Of course he is; he Is much more human, while his 
act is much more Divine. That is the whole point ; it 
is when people suddenly do things beyond themselves 
that the age of m'-^icles b^ins, and that startiing effects 
are produced. Lc 'r at Balaam and his ass, and how 
awfully upset he w*j when she did what he believed 
she was incapable of doing, and reproved him. But 
do you suppose it would have had any effect 
upon him if instead of his ass it had been his 
wife who b^an scolding and objecting and begging 
him to stay at home? Not a bit of it It would 
have been just what he was used to and what he 
expected, and would have had no effect upon him 
at all" 

Paul smiied fondly at his wife, « Even if you succeed 
In convincing us that every man is a coward, nothing will 
Induce me to accept the dogma that every woman is a 
shrew." 

"Now for my part," remarked Greenstreet, "I con- 



39ai>er0 vtevra 



87 



•idered that by far the more plausible of the two tenets 
of Mrs. Seaton's creed." 

Isabel laughed gaily. « Therefore you must see that 
when a woman behaves like an angel it is all the more 
credit to her." 

" DoubUess it would be ; but personally I have never 
come across an instance," replied the author. 

"I have," said Paul quietly; "and such a striking 
one that it has apparently led me into the not 
uncommon error of generalizing from a sinele 
instance I " 

Isabel blew him a kiss. "Thank you," she said. 
Then she went on j " All of which U very nice and 
interesting, but it hasn't answered my question as to how 
long Lord Wrexham thinks that the Liberals will remain 
m ofEce." 

"Until the next Dissolution anyway. 1 feel sure 
that if we were beaten upon a question in the House 
of Commons, he would take the verdict of the country 
before he would resign." 

"And do you think we shall get a majority at the 
next General Election, Lord Kesterton ? " 

" That I cannot tell, Mrs. Seaton ; it lies in the lap of 
the gods. But one thing I can say : I would rather be 
beaten altogether than continue in office with as small 
a majority as we have at present Too small a majority 
in the House of Commons is a source of weakness to 
any Government" 

" I believe that we shall have a tremendous majority 
at the next General ElecUon," cried Paul ; "a majority 
that will enable us to do great things." 

"You do not think your husband is right Mta. 
Seaton?" said Lord Kesterton, as Isabel rose from the 
table and he moved her chair for her to pass. 



S8 



9n Snbjectton 



" No," she replied slowly, as she looked whh half- 
envious admiration at the enthusiasm shining in Paul'i 
eyes: "I often don't think he is right; but I still 
oftener wish that I were as wrong as he is I" 



CHAPTER VII 



GABRIEL CARR 

In a new and hideous vicarage, built in a new and 

hideous suburb of London, dwelt the Reverend Gabriel 

Carr. It was not a slum : if it had been, he could have 

borne it better : it was merely a highly respectable and 

unbeautiful spot, inhabited by a highly respectoble and 

unbeautiful population. For several years be had 

worked in the East End, and had fought face to face 

with ApoUyon in that Valley of t»"^ Shadow. A hard 

fight, it is true— a struggle to t very death: but a 

battle not without a certain dramaUc force and reality, 

which inspired the fighter with courage and strength.' 

Then the Bishop appointed Carr to the forming of a 

brand-new parish in the centre of a brand-new suburb 

—one of those staring, yellow-brick suburbs which are 

increasingly wont to disfigure the face of the earth in 

the immediate neighbourhood of large cities. Here 

Gabriel worked as hard as he had ever worked in the 

Valley of the Shadow, and was as ready to fight ; but 

he was forced to admit to his own soul that the work 

« -iss interesting, the battle less exciting. With a 

o. ainal class that publicly blasphemed and privately 

defied the Deity, he knew how to deal; but not with 

a lower middle-class that outwardly patronized and 

Inwardly ignored Him. Carr's new parishionen 

»9 



90 



9n Stibjectton 



seemed &r too smug and self- satisfied to need 
Mlvation at all; and far too respectable and inde- 
pendent to accept it as a free gift, if they did. 
ne felt that they would resent receiving even the 
grace of God as a charity, but would expect it to be 
paid for out of the rates : and, that being so, they had 
a right to It, without the intervention of any priest or 
prophet whatsoever. 

Nevertheless— so great was Carr-s power of success 
and so strong his personality— he succeeded in doing a 
good work even in that unpromising locality. When 
first he was appointed Vicar of S. Etheldreda's, he 
folded his flock in one of those galvanized iron 
sanctuaries, which are anything but chapels-of-ease in 
nature whatever they may be in name: and there he 
and his people for several years suffered tortures from 
the frost of winter and the heat of summer by turns. But, 
with his usual unfailing energy, he gradually collected 
sufficient money to build a permanent Church, and 
sufficient worshippers to fill it. Ke believed that 
Ritualism and RevivaHsm were the only two forms of 
religion which have power to attract the masses; that 
it IS through the seeing eye and the hearing ear that 
the hearts of the uneducated are reached; so that, 
while to the wise and learned the visible sign is but the 
expression of the invisible reality, to the unlearned and 
Ignorant the invisible reality is the explanation of the 
visible sign. Therefore Carr availed himself of both 
Oiese handmaids of religion in the services of S 
Etheldreda's. 

But he also believed that though Revivalism may 
plant and Ritualism may water, it is not in the power 
of either of these to give the increase. Resultl be 
trusted to higher Hands; and— like all men who do 



Oabctel <t«rr »t 

Uieir best, and then leave the issues entirely in those 
Hands-he was not disappointed. He succeeded at 
last at S. Etheldreda's as he had succeeded in the 
slums; for even crass respectability fa not permanently 
proof against the power of God, 

Gabriel Carr had two dfatinguishing characteristics : 
an intense love for what was healthy and beautiful, and 
an equally intense hatred for what was unhealthy and 
morbid. And perhaps his upbringing had much to do 
witii this. An Oxford man, he had drunk deep into tiie 
spirit of tiiat venerable and beautiful city, and had 
saturated his mind witii iU traditions and beliefs. Before 
he won his scholarship at Oriel, he was for some years 
at the Royal Naval School at Eltiiam, a school originally 
founded by William IV. for tiie sons of Naval officers, 
but long since also thrown open to all sorte and conditions 
of boys whose parents are wise enough to avail themselves 
of tiiat opening: and a school, moreover, which is not 
only a home of sound learning and of admirable physical 
and mental traimng, but is also an emporium of two 
other things equally good In their own way, namely, fresh 
air and sunshine. In after years, whenever Gabriel 
wanted to conjure up before his "inward eye" an 
embodied vision of sunshine, he always thought of 
Eltiiam College: of tiie large and lofty class-rooms, 
where the truant sunbeams were always peeping in, 
pointi'ng their golden fingers at the masters and winking 
at the boys, as if lessons were the greatest joke in the 
world from a sunbeam's point of view : of the bright and 
airy dormitories, where the summer sun awoke the 
sleepers long before it was getting-up time, and yet 
"never came a wink too soon, nor brought too long a 
day ': and, most of all, of tiie cricket-field— surely one 
of the loveliest cricket-fields in England 1— which lay in 



9* 



Sit Snbiecttoit 



a shallow cup among the green Kentish uplands, filled 
to overflowing with a wealth of the richest sunlight that 
Nature ever flung out of her stores of gold. Beautiful 
was the cricket-field in the early morning, when the 
youthful day had not yet gathered up the showers of 
diamonds which had fallen from- his hands while he was 
yet half asleep : still more beautiful was it in the golden 
afternoon, when happy boys played cricket in the sun- 
shine, and still happier parents watched them from the 
shade of the fine old elm-trees that stood as sentinels 
around : and most beautiful of all when the shadows 
began to lengthen, and the old elm-trees stretched out 
their arms and wrote strange hieroglyphics upon the 
pavement of emerald at their feet. 

Thus the sunshine of Eltham and the shades of Oxford 
carved their tracery upon the character of Gabriel Carr, 
and helped to make him into the manner of man that he 
was. 

« I am going to have tea with Gabriel Carr this after- 
noon," said Isabel to her guest, the day after the little 
dinner-party bi Prince's Gardens ; " will you come • ith 
me?" 

" Certainly. It will interest me to see Mr. Carr in his 
own home and in the midst of his usual surroundings : 
it will help me to understand him. I do not think we 
ever really know much about other people until we have 
seen them in their accustomed environment" 

Mrs. Seaton shook her head. "It won't brip you 
much in understanding Gabriel ; as his surroundings an 
not an atom like himself." 

" I didn't say they were ; or even think it" 

"And if you expect him to resemble thoae isseets 
who look like twigs because they live among twigs, or 
thoae animals who have white coats Own dwelling in 



OabrfelCarr «^ 

Arctic regions, you will be disappointed. He Uvea la 
a square house built of dirty yellow bricks— oce of 
those dreary, unomamented houses, that look as If they 
had no eyebro ,s or eyelashes, and hadn't the time to 
wash their faces; and yet his own character is not built 
of yellow brick at all. but has as many foundations S3 
the New Jerusalem, and is of as rare and costly 
materials." 

"Just so. Unlikeness may be as certain a result as 
likeness. That is my whole point" 

I' Oh I my dear, you are too subtle for me." 

" Not at alL The whiteness of a diamond is as much 
the result of its environment as that of a polar bear la 
the result of his. Sometimes like produces like- 
sometimes like produces unlike; but both productions 
are equally results." 

«I suppose," suggested Isabel, "that the difference 
depends upon the strength of the environment: two 
blacks must be very black Indeed before thty can make 
a white." 

" No ; it depends upon the nature of the thing Itself." 
Fabia answered rather shortly. Isabel's habit of 
speaking lightly and half-mockingly about everything, 
always irritated her. She took life and herself very 
seriously, and was as yet too young to have learnt how 
nearly akin are tears and laughter. She did not know 
that smiles are oflener a surer symptom than tears of a 
tender and understanding heart 

But Isabel pursued her way unabashed. "I see; 
no amount of fervent heat would turn a piece of 
carbon into a polar bear; whUe the most intense and 
microbe-destroying frost wouldn't change a polar bear 
Into a diamond tiara ; the raw material differing in tiie 
two cases. It's like the difference between exports ■») 



i I 

I 



M SnSttMecnon 

importt : one U one and the other It the other, and It It 
a mortal iln against political economy to confound the 
two ; but what la really the diiTerence between them I've 
never b^en able to understand." 

Fabia's lips curled slightly. Ignorance of any kind 
was contemptible to her. 

"I should have thought that you, the wife of a 
distinguished politician, would have known a thing 
like tliat I wonder your husband has never explained it 
to you." 

"He has, often; ^at's why I don't understand it 
You will find, my dear Fabia, when you have lived as 
long as I have, that all life's mysteries are compre- 
hensible, but not its explanations. I have great 
sympathy with the old woman who t^d she 'under- 
stood the "Pilgrim's Progress," and she hoped soon, 
with the help of the Lord, to be able to understand 
the key.' I always understand everything until it is 
explained to me ; and then I never understand it again 
as long as I livCi" 

Fabia did not speak, but silently marvelled. How 
could any woman thus positively glory in apparent 
ignorance and stupidity — and a woman, too, as 
naturally sharp and clever as Isabel? If she had 
found herself on any point wanting in knowledge or 
intelligence, she would never have given herself away 
by openly admitting it ; but Isabel took the world at 
large into her confidence with regard to her own 
deficiencies. But this again— though Fabia did not 
know it — was merely a consequence of the red cord. 

" For instance," Isabel rattled on, " I used to under- 
stand perfectly the difference between exports and 
imports. I said to tnytnAf: ' The ore goes out and the 
other comes in ; ' and that seemed as plain as the nose 



<Mbtkl <S»n 9s 

on yarn faee-wWch, by the way, on youn U a 
•ingularly pretty one But then Paul must Uke it 
into Us head to expound to me that what went in at 
one ear, so to speak, came out at the other, and was 
changed from an import to an export in the process. 
And from that moment I was lost I never again 
understood the diflerence between an export and an 
import, and I never shall." 

Fabia wondered whether Isabel knew she was a fool 
when she talked like this. She did not grasp that it 
was because Isabel knew she was no fool-and knew 
thaft her world knew it also-that she amused herself 
— ai.d It— by sometimes behaving as one. 

"In the same way." the latter continued, « I used to 
understand perfectly whether tb 'twentieth century 
Dq:ins witii the year nineteen-hundred or tiie year 
nineteen-hundred-and-one, until the day Paul explained 
It to me by taking a hundred apples out of one basket 
Md putting tiiem into another: and from that day to 
this Ive never known when tiie twentieth century 
bei^ns-or whether it is like eternity, and has no 
beginning at alL" 
^ "But we were talking about Mr. Carr," suggested 

"So we were. How clever of you to remember ! To 
know what one is (Hiking about is one of the highest 
forms of intelligence. There is only one form higher 
—to know what otiier people are talking atwut Well, 
will you come and have tea witii him this afternoon, 
or will you not? It b purely optional ; not com- 
pulsoiy, as education Is. and as adult vaccination ought 
to be. 

"I have alr^dy told yon that 1 wfll. I shall be 
Immensely intrrested to see Mr, Carr in tiiat home of 



9« 9n SttMectlon 

hli own, which you have uiured me is lo tntiit • casket 
for the Jewel that it contains." 

"Don't be sarcastic, my dear. Men hate a satirical 
woman like poison ; and a sharp tongue is to them as a 
serpent's tooth." 

FaUa did not answer, but she Inwardly raged She 
always resented Isabel's easy assumption of authority 
and superior knowledge ; and when, as In the present 
case, Fabia knew that her hostess was in the right, she 
hated It still more. And there was no doubt that Isabel 
frequently was in the right A woman who has lived 
for nearly forty years in the he^rt of the world, and 
has kept her eyes open and unblinded by temper or 
prejudice, has generally seen a good deal. 

AfoiT lunch the two adiea set out for S. Etheldreda's 
Vicarage. They soon left what Isabel called the 
habitable parts of the earth— that Is to say, those 
portions of London occupied by its more fashionable 
denizens — behind them, and drove through long miles 
of mean streets until they reached the dreary suburb 
where Gabriel Carr had his abode. And specially 
dreary it appeared on this April afternoon when 
the rest of the world was alive with the message of 
spring. At last they found their way to the yellow 
brick Vicarage, and were duly welcomed by its 
master. 

There was no doubt that the Vicar of S. Etheldieda's 
was a singularly handsome man; his beauty, which 
was the bequest of an Italian grandmother, being of 
that first-class order which impresses the beholders 
more with a sense of how fair is the soul that inhabits 
such a tenement, than with a consciousness of the 
beauty of the body which that soul informs. The 
only flaw In the otherwise almost statuesque perfection 



o«Mei em „ 

ofWi .ppewnee wu to b. found la hi. hand., which 
w«, more .Ike tho^ of an .rtl«n than of a gentleman. 
But theie also. In their own way. boi. teitlraony to the 
beauty of hU k,u1; for he had .polled them by thJ 
manual labour which he h«l done a. a comradT and 

workjd wUllngly with hi. hand. In order to teach and 
help themto work willingly with thein ; he had opened 
a carpenter', .hop, and had in.tructed them hlmwlf on 
c«^n evening, eve. week In .11 .imple and uMfiil 

5?.. l"?"*^- , f ** *^« '«»*• •"« *" ^^ '"d thin, 
of a light and graceful build, and with a face .xprewlv^ 

of intelllpice and .pirltuality. So aKetIc wa. hi. 
type^d M refined hi. .tyle of countenance, that he 
looked mora like a medieval ink than a modem 
parirfi priest •"wcm 

^J!\r^r^ ^^ '^''°" *** ""y expre«ion. of 
delight, and conducted them Into hi. ban ant^ ' achelor 
drawing-room-one of thoM typical bachelor .awlne. 
room, which are, m to .peak, fuU of the absence of a 
womaa He might have flower, upon hi. Altar, but he 

51."!!^* u^ !•'' ""»*«>■?'«* ; there wera none of 
those pretty knick-knack, about, whereby women create 
a home atmo.pher^ and at the same time, harbour dust; 
but CTwythlng looked a. cold and dean and unllved-in 
" JJ . "iS? ^* *" prepared for the nursing of a fever- 
patient The fire had evidently been lighted just lone 
enough to awaken Into Hfe all the dampnew dormant in 

^,Tf ' *f '* "?'""^ *° ^*^' *° »•>« .piteful way 
which firw have when they think they ought not to 
have been l^hted at alL Gabriel hkd only tht« 
photograph. In his room-namely the Interior of hi. 
Church, and the exterior, of hi. mother and bis Bishoo ■ 
•nd even these had nothing In the .hape of a frame ft, 



0* Sn SuMectton 

•often the severity and squareness of their cardboard 
outlines. An unfurnished tea-tray was already upon 
the table ; but as there seemed little hope of iu being 
occupied for some considerable period, Gabriel suggested 
that they ^ould go and Inspect the church to fill up 
the interval until such good time as the kettle should 
see fit to boiL 
So Into S. Ethedreda's they went ; and were struck 
-as were all who entered that Church— with the 
dlfTeience betweeu its plain and unimposing outside 
and its rich and ornate interior. Outwardly it was an 
ugly and unassuming structure ; but inwardly it was a 
perfect instance of hov7 beautiful Divine Service may be 
when conducted according to the rites of that branch of 
the Holy Catholic Church established in this realm. 
Gabriel was strictly Anglican : he allowed nothing in 
his Church that was not permitted— nay, enjoined— by 
the Ornaments Rubric. He would have scorned to 
borrow from Rome any outward form which signified no 
corresponding doctrine in the section of the Church to 
which he owed his allegiance: he would not even 
permit the children in his Sunday-schools to observe 
any act of ritual until they had first been taught the 
fundamental truth which that act symbolized. He 
knew how helpful it oftentimes is to those who see 
through a glass darkly, to be reminded by outward 
symbolisms of the great truths upon their acceptance of 
which depends the salvation of their souls. But he 
knew also that while the ceremony which serves 
to recall and expound a truth may be a help, the 
meaningless form which has no root in r«dity 
must always be a hindrance. Therefore Gabriel was 
no mere Ritualist for Ritualism's sake ; but he prided 
himself upon showing what the services of the Church 



OaMelOanr 



99 



of England really are when rightly and rigidly 
performed. Whatever of symbol and form and 
ornament this branch of the Catholic Church allows, 
of that he availed himself to the full; reiectinE 
firmly, however, all mediaeval and modem accretions or 
superstitions, and reverting it as far as possible to the 
usages of tile early and undivided Church. 

The beauty of eveiytiiing witiiin tiie vails of S 
EUieldreda's appealed vety strongly to Isabel's artistic 
temperament Hers was one of the natures which 
instinctively recognize the indissoluble connexion 
beti«reen tiie Beautiful and tiie True, and which 
understand tiiat Beauty can never be a rival of Trutij 
but IS ratiier an exponent of it Upon Fabia, however! 
Uie effect was altogether different Hers was a more 
sensuous nature than Isabel's, and she tiierefore rated 
Uie intiinsic excellence of anything in an inverse 
proportion to its appeal to her senses. She believed 
tiiat in tills she was more purely intellechial tiian her 
friend ; but here she was mistaken. It is no proof of 
intense spirituality when men and women regard as 
snares of the devil all tiie beauties of Nature and of art • 
but rather tiie reverse; He may be a good man in 
whom tiie flesh lustetii against the spirit and the spirit 
^nst tiie flesh ; but he is a stiU better man in whom 
tiie flesh IS so subset Went to the spirit tiiat tiie on» 
expresses and typifies the otiier, turning into a very 
sacrament every incident in daily hfe^ so tiiat God mav 
be all in all. * 

When Gabriel and his guests returned to tiie Vicarage 
tiie tea was ready-tiiat strong, rampant tea, stiffened 
witii self-supporting London cream, which many men 
and few women enjoy. And tiie Vicar poured it out 
himsclL 



'ii 



loe 



9n Sttbjectton 



"I see you have chairs In your Church instead of 
pews, Mr. Carr," remarked Fabia ; " and I want to know 
why chairs are always considered more virtuous tlian 
pews." 

"They are not," he replied, 'except in so far as 
economy is a virtue; They are much cheaper : that is 
my sole reason for l»ving them." 

"They are nothing like as comfortable as pews," said 
Isabel; "because there's nowhere to put your l^s — 
let alone your umbrella; and my umbrella ought to 
have a prize for regular attendance at public worship." 

"And do you feel you couldn't bring it to S. 
Etheldreda's, Mrs. Seaton?" 

"There would be nowhere for it to sit if I did. 
That's why I hate chairs; they are so cramped. It 
may be the right thing to be 'content to fill a little 
space,' as the hymn-writer was ; but I am not content 
to fill a little space, because I fill it so completely that 
there are no outlying districts where I can plant my 
gloves and my boa and my other etceteras; and 
that is so very uncomfortable both for me and for 
them." 

"Why don't yon annex another chair?" suggested 
Fabia. 

"Oh, that would look so horribly greedy and selfish! 
I don't mind annexing a little bit of extra pew : in fact, 
I feel that belongs to me by right, on the same principle 
as a ditch always belongs to the owner of the other 
side of the hedge — a sort of perquisite. But coolly to 
annex a whole empty chair, on which an immortal soul 
might and ought to be sitting — I couldn't do such a 
thing at any price I I've always been led to believe 
that it was things like that — ^with a differenc»— which 
brought about the French Revolutioa" 



dabrielCact 



xei 



"Then, Mr. Carr, you dont consider pews sinful?" 
Inquired Fabia. 

"Not at all; merely expensive. Sin Is always 
expensive, but expense is not necessarily sinful ; and 
pews are harmless if costly pleasures." 

"And you don't object to people paying rents for 
them, as so many Churchmen do?" 

"Oh I but I do object. Miss Vipart— object with all 
my heart I consider it contrary to all the principles 
of Christianity for there to be any difference in the 
House of God. There the rich and the poor meet 
together to worship the Maker of them all ; and they 
meet on an equal footing of dependence upon Him. 
Have pews, by all means, if you can afford them; but 
let the pews be free." 

"You've trodden upon one of Mr. Carr's most 
carefully cultivated corns," said Isabel, with a 
laugh. 

" That is so," admitted Gabriel. « People— especially 
English people — love to have something which sets 
them, as they think, apart from their fellows— some- 
thing which proves that they are not as other men, or 
even as this publican. They are never so happy as 
when they stick up a red cord somewhere, and go 
themselves on one side of it, leaving everybody else on 
the other. I feel sure that most British subjects — ^when 
they indulge In dreams of Heaven— substitute a red 
cord for those pearly gates which are never shut But 
the cord is fastened across pretty often, and is only let 
down in favour of themselves and of such of their friends 
as entirely agree with them." 

Fabia was roused from her usual apathy; at last she 
had found someone who understood. 

" I know what you mean by your red cord," she said, 



11! 

i!; 



let 



3n SnbjccttoK 



slowly. "It b very cofflmon — veiy cruel — and very 
English." 

"Cruel? I should just think it Is cruel." exclaimed 
the Vicar. " It is positively merciless 1 " 

" I think you exaggerate it alt(^ther," said Isabel ; 
"to me it is more amusing than anything else. After 
all, if a littl < bit of red cord at one-and-elevenpence- 
halfpenny a yard constitutes human happiness, why on 
earth shouldn't people have as much of it as they want 
^.enough to hang themselves, in fact ? " 

"For the good reason that they don't hang only 
theiiiselves; they hang other people, Mrs. Seaton, to 
whom the operation is less necessary and more 
painful." 

"Well, for my part I like it," replied Isabel coolly; 
"it may be wicked, but I do. I love to see a red cord 
&11 down before me, like the walls of Jericho, and rise 
up again the moment I have passed through. Every- 
body feels like that ; it's humsui nature. And if you 
try to make out that the Israelites didn't enjoy it when 
seas and rivers made way for them and not ibr the 
Canaanites and Egyptians, I simply shan't believe you : 
and the Israelites were considered very good people in 
their way." 

Gabriel smiled. "Yes, in their way; but it wasn't 
the Christian way, you see; and ours '*' That makes 
all the difference." 

Isabel sighed. " I forgot that Yes ; I suppose one 
could hardly call them Christians." 

" Hardly, Mrs. Seatoa" 

Gabriel was still smiling. He knew Isabel; knew 
that she was far better than she made herself out to be 
— far better than she herself had any idea oil Heknew 
that bar half-cfaildish vanity dc%hted in passiag tlirough 



Oabriel Cart 



1*3 



iocial barriers; but he also knew that more than half 
her delight consisted in being able to take other people 
with her. She might have enjoyed crossing the Red 
Sea on dry land ; but she would never have consented 
to leave Pharaoh's host behind. 

She sighed again. "Oh, dear I Do you remember 
the baby in 'Alice in Wonderland ' that made a very 
ugly baby but a v^ry haadsome pig ? Well, I seem 
to make a very ugly Christian but a very handsome 
Jewess : I am referring, of course, to moral beauty. I 
am sorry >m be so wicked, but I do like red cords, and 
it's no use pretending that I don't I believe the reason 
why I always p-joy the preaching at S. Margaret's, 
Westminster, is because there is a red cord there, 
licensed to hold only members of Parliament and their 
wives." 

" I'll be bound you always want to take somebody 
else in with you," said Carr. 

"Yes, I do: partly from good nature and partly 
because it is against the rules. Members of Parliament 
are only allowed one wife, even on Sundays, poor things I 
And it does seem such short commons, especially when 
there is a popular preacher turned on I" 

" A red cord is just the sort of thing you would like," 
said Fabia, with suppressed scorn. " I should have 
expected it of you." 

" Then I'm glad you are not disappointed," retorted 
Isabel » I rarely disappoint my friends." 

Although Gabriel knew precisely how much Isabel's 
liking of this red cord amounted to, he wished she had 
not openly praised it in Fabia's presence, as he felt sure 
that the girl would misundersUnd her; and he was 
right: parish priests learn a great deal about human 
natore in the conne of their ministrations. It is a role 



l«4 



in BvUbUxtton 



—and sometimes a very unfortunate rale— that we an 
apt, in our intercourse with others, to take whatever 
r6Ie they may in their own minds have allotted to us, 
even if that rdle is unlike^ even opposed to» our natural 
one, Instead of endeavouring to prove that certain 
persons are wrong— when they are so— in thinking us 
dull or sarcastic or flippant, we become, when in the 
company of these persons, the very things which they 
erroneously suppose us to be. Sometimes unconsciously 
—sometimes even against our will— we are for the time 
being not our real Mves at all, but the creatures of our 
companions' imaginations. This may be partly due to 
a sort of false pride that will not allow us to justify 
ourselves when we have been so misjudged; but 
probably more to the eflect of mind upon mind. By 
expecting us to have certain qualities, these people 
temporarily endow us with those quaUties ; and we 
actually are dull or sarcastic or flippant when in their 
society. Therefore it behoves us all to think the best and 
to expect the highest of each other, until the charity 
which believeth aU things and hopeth all things shall at 
last see faith and hop^ lost in full fruition. 

"Yes, you have never felt the lash of the red cord, 
Mrs. Seaton," said Carr gently; " you have always been 
on the right side of it' 

Isabel laughed carelessly. The people who take 
things for granted never know quite how hard life Is 
to the people who do not "Well, at any rate, yon 
can't have much of the questionable material fa a place 
like this. That" s one comfort for you ! " 

"Can't I, though? Thafs all you know about it! 
Why, It Is one of my greatest stumbling-blocks, and Is 
always getting fa the way and trioping up my people in 
their road to Heavea Don't .jiagine for a moment 



OaMelCatt ms 

that the sin of exduslvenesa is conBned to the apper 
classes. In fact no sin is. Tlje devil may have his 
faults, but he is no snob, I am sorry to say. I only 
wish he were I It would make work in the onfashionable 
parishes far easier for the clergy." 

" But I should have thought that the people here were 
all on the same dead level, like their houses." said 
Isabel 

" Not a bit of it They appear so to us, I admit ; but 
doubtless we appear so to the angels. It is merely a 
question of perspective. When I first came here, in 
the fulness and innocence of my.heart I invited a few of 
my leading parishioners to tea : I thought it would bring 
them closer together; and so it did— too dose. I d's- 
covered that there were deep and impassable social gulfs 
yawmng between apparently co^ual retail tradesmen. 
They bitterly complained that not only was it dis- 
tMteful to sit at meat with social inferiors, but that- 
after thus sitting together— they could hardly 'give 
each other the pass-by' in the street, but were com- 
pelled to 'move' to one another thenceforward And 
to 'move' to anyone evidently entails serious social 
responsibiUties which must not wantonly or unadvisedly 
be taken in hand." 

"Gabrid, ask Miss Vlpart to sing to us," said Isabel, 
rising from her chair and opening the piano— Gabrid's 
one and only luxury; "I'm sure she wUl, if you ask her 
prettily." 

It was one of Mrs. Seaton's good pdnts that she 
never lost an opportunity of showing off another woman 
to the best advantage. She did not know what jealousy 
or envy meant 

But Fabia resented even this, r^^ing it as a form 
of patronage; and would probably have refused, had 



It4 



9n SnKjectlon 



not Gabriel turned to her at that moment, with « 
bcMeching expresrion in hia eyes, adding his entreatlei 
to Isabel's. Personal attraction had a n^reat effect upon 
Fabia : It was only beauty in the abstract that &iled to 
command her homage: She would not be as consdoua 
as was Isabe' of the beauty of a sermon ; but she 
would be far more conscious of the beauty of the 
preacher. The one woman admired Gabriel because 
he was good ; the other, because he was good-looking. 
Therefore, Carr being a handsome man, Fabia did as he 
asked her: just ak she would probably have obeyed 
Isabel, had Isabel been a beautiful woman. It is an 
accepted theory that a woman's personal beauty is the 
surest passport to the love of man ; but it is a far surer 
passport to the love of other women. 

So she sat down at the piano and began to sing ; and 
as she sang, the reason of her loneliness and isolation 
became apparent: for she owned that strange gift 
which is called genius, the possessors whereof are 
always set apart from their fellow-mea 

As she sang, Gabriel felt as if the heavens had opened, 
and earth with its sordid cares and petty interests had 
drifted far away. On the wings of that song his soul 
was uplifted until he hardly knew where he was or 
what he was doing. He was only conscious of an 
indescribable joy and peace which exceeded all 
description. 

It is one of the peculiarities of genius, as distinguished 
from mere talent, that genius can give what it has never 
possessed, and can teach what it has never learned. 
The man of talent can only distribute of his abundance 
—can only Instruct others out of his own stores of 
knowledge ; but the man with a spark of genius poors 
fiHtfa ricbas which have never entered Into hia conoep* 



0atneiaatt 



107 



tlon. And that because genius is no mere owntrihip 
of intellectual gifts, but a channel for something which 
is outside mere humanity altogether — something which 
in its essence partakes of the Divine. A man's talents 
are to a certain extent an integral part of himself; but 
not so his genius : this Is but a pipe — made maybe of 
the commonest earthenware — through which rushes the 
sound of many waters when deep calleth unto deep. 

Of course in the well-known cases of great genius, 
talent and capacity are supendded. A man— to do 
excellent and lasting work — must cultivate his heaven- 
bom gift with all the aids of human knowledge and 
culture ; and, further, he must fit himself to be a vessel 
unto honour, sanctified and meet for the use of that 
Master Who has entrusted him with the rare and price- 
less gift of genius. For even a pipe through which 
flows the dew of the mountain and the rain from 
heaven, may so foul that stream, by its own unclean- 
ness, that the water of life is thereby turned into the 
water of death, and the rain of God into m veritable 
devil's sewer. 

But these matters were as yet hid from Gabriel Carr, 
Because Fabia sang like an angel, he believed that she 
was in truth an angel — ^because she lifted his soul up to 
Heaven, he believed that she herself was already there 
--because she taught him by the beauty of her voice 
something of the goodness of God, he believed that she 
had already tasted of that goodness, and had proved 
how gracious it is. Therefore as soon as he heard her 
voice he loved ber; as Charles Gaythorne had loved 
her as soon as he saw her face. And each man had yet 
to learn to his cost that neither voice nor face was 
the woman herself^ nor in any way representative of 



CHAPTER VIII 



▼ERNACRB PARK 

friendi to spend "Whitsuntide with him at Verwcre 
Park^is countiy-seat; which party Included Lonl 
A^!f^":. J!'- ^^'^'^ Greenstreet, Captain Gay. 
thorne and his mother, the Reverend Gabriel Carr. and 
the Paul Seatons with their guest, Miss Vipart 

It was the Saturday afternoon, and they were havfne 
tea In the stately drawing-room-a room, for all its 
magnificcAce. as empty of abiding feminine occupation 
M was the drawing-room at S. Etheldreda's Vicaract 
Mrs. Seaton would have preferred to have tea outlf- 
doors, but she was too wise a woman to suggest it: havlne 
learn^It Is not in human nature patiSSJ to S 
alien Interference In domestic arrangements. It may be 
very hwolc to go forth combating error and ledressinff 
wrong In true knlght^rrantiy fashion; but It fafiJr 
.«!^ *° if « ?" *^' ""combated, and the wrong 

" I am going down to the home-farm after tea to 
inspect some model cottages tiiat have been erected 
durmg my absence," said the host; "would anybody 
care to come with me?" ' 

" I should be Immensely Interested, If youll take me." 
io8 



Vectucte 9*tk 



109 



tniwered Inbd quickly, before anybody eUe bad time 
to . tk. 

She knew that he wanted her to go, and ihe wanted 
to indulge him. It was only since her marriage that 
she had learnt to look at things from a man's point of 
view as well as from a woman's, and had consequently 
realized how badly she had treated Lord Wrexham in 
the old days when she was Isabel Camaby ; and now, 
woman-like, she tried to make up to him in the things 
that did not matter for having failed him in things that 
did ; because she had once denied him bread, she now 
fairly pelted him with precious stones. To tell the 
truth, there was nothing that bored her more than 
farm buildings and model cott^^; but she was 
willing — nay ready — to endure any amount of boredom 
if she could thereby relieve Wrexham's loneliness and 
her own conscience: about the latter part of which 
attempt there was not, it mi st be admitted, much 
difficulty. People to whom the world Is ready to 
forgive much, rarely find It bard to forgive themselves 
still more. 

Lord Wrexham's face lighted up with pleasure. I 
shall be delighted to take you, Mrs. Seaton." 

" I want to come too," said Fabia. 

Isabel looked annoyed. She was fully aware of the 
hct that the lovely Fabia had designs upon the Prime 
Minister himself, and she resented it exceedin(;ly. We 
none of us really like the people who want to marry our 
former lovers ; just as we never really like the people 
who live in the houses that were once our homes. 
Isabel was banning to feel much as Frankenstein felt 
when his monster grew restive. 

But Charlie Gaythome unconsciously came to her 
rescue. "Oh! I say. Miss Vipart: that's a bit too bad 



IM 



Sr Sn^fCctlMi 



Yoa proffliNd to coom tot • itroU with n* ■»« tm. 
don't you know ?» — wr w^ 

"So I did. I quite fotcot it" 

Chtrlle reddened. It li not pleuut to be foi^otten 
by the woman you love; and it it itill leu so to be 
inforned of the fact befoie a roomful of your dearest 
Wends. But this was Fabla's mode of punishing him 
»|fP««iining to remember what it had suited ber to 
isrget. 

■Perhaps Miss VIpart will let me show her my 
cottages to-morroW Instead," said the host, with his usu^ 
kindly tact 

Fabia, seeing that the bird In the hano had escaped 
from out of her grasp, accepted the subsUtut* from the 
bush with the best grace she could muster. 

" Thank you. Lord Wrexham : it will afford me the 
greatest pleasure to inspect your model farm ; and at 
the same time, I may be able to borrow from it some 
ideas which may be adapted, on my return home, for 
the improvement of my Indian estites." 

Lord Wrexham beamed Thcie are few men who 
do not derive gratification from being requested to 
Instruct a beautiful woman ; and still fewer who can 
resist the subtle flattery of being consulted upon the 
one matter which they do not understand In politics 
—wherein he really was a profiden*— Lord Wrexham 
frequently doubted his own wisdom; but with i^ard 
to farming— wherein he was an amateur of the firat 
water— he spoke with authority and without hesiutioa 

•• I shall only be too pleased to give you any advice or 
assistance in my power," he said 

But here Mrs. Gay'Jiome inserted her usual word in 
••Mon. She rarely heard of the formation of any plan. 
however simply without making some attempt to 



trnprove It ; and this not from any ankindnen of heart, 
but limply from an Inwtiable pauion for reform In the 
abstract 

"I cannot think that the Sabbath dayli a niluble 
ocouton for perambuUUng iarm-yard. ai^l Inipecting 

"But why not, dear lady, why not?" uked Green- 
■treet "To my mind there if no more suiuble 
amtuement for a Sunday aftemoo-i— no occupation 
more in keeping with the reposeful atmosphere of the 
day-than to scratch the back of a pig with the end 
of ones walking-stick. 1 always embrace such an 
opportunity whenever it offers itself: it is so soothine 
to the nerves that it almost sends one to sleep on the 
spot" 

" There Is something better to be done on the Sabbath 
than to be sent to sleep, Mr. Greenstieet," r. oiled Mrs. 
Gaythomc^ with some sternness. 
" Indeed : then why listen to sermons t ' 
Charlie moved resdessly in his chair. He wished 
Greenstreet wouldn't rouse his mother, just when she 
was taking her tea so nicely and quietly, and all was 

Gabriel gallantly stepped Into the breach. "Surely 
Mrs. Gaythorne, the contemplaUon of God's creatures 
can never be a desecration of God's day. And besides 
m are specially toU that if an ox or an ass faU into a 
At on the Sabbath day we may pull it out : which surely 
means that nothing done to alleviate the sulTering of the 
creature can ever be displeasing to the Creator." 

"Mr. Greenstreet was not proposing to pull an ox 
°ote-"* °"* **' * *"'' ^ *" proposing to scratch 

Mrs. Gaytbome was nothing if not literal 



Its 



9n Snblectfon 






"And fa 80 dofag I should be relieving the suffering 
of another without any inconvenience to myself," added 
Greenstreet : " the very essence of modem Christianity." 

Again Charlie moved restlessly. It was all very well 
to be brave, he thought ; but to wave scarlet bunting in 
the faces of dangerous cattle is foolhardiness rather than 
courage. 

"Besides," continued Mrs. Gaythome, as usual 
plodding steadily along a side issue, "oxen and asses 
are treated with great respect all through the Scriptures ; 
they were both vef^ useful and important animals in the 
Holy Land. But no Jew would ever touch bacon or 
pork." 

She had a happy knack of frequently getting the best 
of an argument by saying something which had nothing 
whatever to do with the subject under discussion, and 
yet sounded as if it bad ; and thereby confounding her 
opponents. 

Isabel was thoroughly enjoying herselC She wished 
that Paul were here to share her unfailing delight in 
Mrs. Gaythome's conversation ; but he had gone for a 
long walk with his Chief, and had not yet returned. 

Greenstreet was slightiy sta^ered for a second by 
the pork-and-bacon thurst; but he quickly recovered 
himself. "I am always thankful I am not a Jew for 
that very reason," he retorted. " What would life be 
without bacon; and what would your morning-tub be 
without the smell of bacon calling yoo to break- 
fast?" 

"Yon are quite right," remarked Isabel; "bacon is 
one of the things that do nc^ taste at the time half so 
nice as they smell beforehand : success is another and 
■o is fame." 

" And marriage, likewise." 



Vetmctc patu ,,3 

• No, no, Mr. Greenstreet Marriage turns out to be 
even nicer than it promises to be." 

.^r^M ^ ^'' °°"' ''''* cauliflowers than bacoa I 
h ^^'V' y°" '''" '«'°»*t «»at other people's 

filled with the promise of them : and-as far as I am 
concenied- other people's marriages have the same 

"You are condemning yourself out of your own 
metaphor,- retorted Isabel " You compare marriage to 
a cauliflower, and you admit that a cauliflower testes 
much better than it smells." 

" ladmit that it coulda't taste much worae." 
Then in the same way you'll find that marriage will 
turn out much nicer than you expect" 

-I shall not: for 1 shall never make the experiment" 

H«« Mrs. Gaythome again pranced into the con- 

^^u'^J^ '? '°"y*° ""^ *^«t yo" a« doubled 
with the odour of cooking in your house. Isabella ; but 
I am not surprised. Most London houses are the same. 
It IS all owing to that ridiculous custom of building 
tottoi" ''^^ of a well with the kitchen at the 
" Like truth," murmured Mr. Greenstreet 
" I beg your pardon, Mr. Greenstreet, I did not catch 
your remark. My hearing is not what it once was. I 
regret to say." ^ ' 

"No need for regret, madam, on that score, when I 
am speaking ; it is rather a subject for self-congratula- 
tion on your part" 

. lS'\tf i'T,"^"^' '' y°" ^^^ y°»' house like 
a well with the kitchen at the bottom, how can you 
keep the odour of cabbage-water out of the drawine- 

room 7" ^ 



"4 



Sn Snl>}ecttoii 



" Quite easily," replied Isabel " I always succeed in 
doing so ; and if one can do a thing oneself, it is safe — 
though humiUating — ^to conclude that nine-tenths of 
one's acquaintance can do it equally welL" 

Mrs. Gaythome looked sternly reproachful " Isabella, 
how can you say there is no odour of cabbage- 
water in your drawing-room, when you have just 
been complaining to Mr. Greenstreet that you 
cannot keep it out — neither it nor bacon ? Dear, dear, 
dear I The young people of to-day are not as truthful 
as we were when we were young. My dear father 
never allowed one of us to be guilty of the slightest 
inaccuracy in our conversation. I remember he once 
punished my sister Maria severely for saying that 
Henry the Eighth had a dozen or more wives, when 
she knew for a fact he had only six." 

" But, dear lady, she was right — absolutely right from 
an artistic point of view," exclaimed Greenstreet; 
"your sister Maria— pardon me for speaking in such 
familiar terms of the lady, but I know her by no other 
name — was a bom artist" 

" She was not. Mr. Greenstreet I was the artist of 
the family, and copied flowers from Nature in water- 
colours upon hand-screens for bazaars; Maria played 
the piano, and frequently performed at village concerts 
—with encores." 

" But she was an artist all the same, from a conversa- 
tional point of view. Every good talker must be more 
or less of an impressionist For instance, if you say 
' Henry the Eighth had dozens of wives,' you give the 
correct impression that he was a much-married man : 
while if you say ' Henry the Eighth had barely six 
wives,' you give the impression that he erred on the 
side of celibacy," persisted Greenstreet, 



Vetiuctepatfe ,,5 

"I do not approve of celibacy" remarked Mrs. 
Gaythome; "especially in the cleiiy.' 

- ^^'P'" ^'*«'»»'«et staggered ander the nn- 
expected thrust ; and once again recovered himself by 

'^Th«i«'" ^ *° «""y *^ ^'^^"^ »"d Maria 
Therefore, you see, Mrs. Gaythome. your sistei 

Z^^ ? ^pressed the idea that King Henry 
married frequently; which was the idea she intended 

^^^T'JJ"' '"' ^"^ ""• S«ton catches my 
point, he added, turning for support to IsabeL 

hatatouched-up photograph is really a much better 
hkeness than the unmodified negative which cannot lie." 
Mrs. Gaythome as usual ignored the high-road of 
tiie conversation, and stalked fearlessly along a by-way 
But It ceased to be anything so frivolo, I a by-Z; 
the moment that the good lady set foot upon it Had 
she crossed By-path Meadow itself, it would immediately 
have been converted into a solid high road 

"^£'' "°* ?} f" disapprove of second marriages 
mj^elf^' she said ; « not at all." She spoke indulge^^ 
as If she expected everybody present to mn out and 
contract a second marriage at once, now that she had 
sanctioned the innocent pastime. "And where there 
are children," she added. -I consider it sometimes a 
necessity, 

" There were children in the case of Henry the Eiriia 
H^In^ember rightly," said Isabel, with medcnesslS 
manner and muKduef in her eyes: -so the poor man 
could plead extenuating circumstonces." 

Th"Ji?'?r'^ ^^^^^ '• ^^'^y Mary was one of them. 
Think of having Bloody Mary for a step-daughter I I 
should vwy much have disliked it" 



Il< 



9n StAiectfon 



" I am sure jrou would," said Lord Wrexham. 

"But she would have acted diflferently," continued 
Mrs. Gaythome, "if 1 iiad liad the early training of 
her." 

" You mean," aaid Greenstreet, "that in that case the 
fires of Smithfeld would have burned seven times 
hotter than tliey did. I admit the theory is not 
untenable." 

" I mean that in that case there would have been no 
Smithfield," replied Mrs. Gaythome majestically. "I 
should have put my foot down upon it at once." 

Here Isabel and Gabriel laughed outright, and Lord 
Wrexham stroked his moustache to hide a smile ; but 
Charlie could not for the life of him see what there was 
to laugh at He knew tliat he dared not have burnt a 
single Protestant if his mothei' had, as she called it, " put 
her foot down " — a favourite form of exercise with her ; 
and he very much doubted if anybody else, Queen 
Mary included, dared have done so either. But other 
people did not know the weight of his mother's foot 
He did. 

And all this time Fabia sat ..ilent, not joining in the 
- conversation at all. She was one of the women who 
cannot ialk except in a tiU-&'UU; by no means an un- 
common type. General conversation invariably sealed 
her lips. But she looked so beautiful tluit silence in 
her was pardonable, if not commendable. Every 
woman ought either to talk well or to look well, 
though she cannot reasonably be expected to do both ; 
but if she does neither, she has no place in the scheme 
of social creatran, and is only fit for domestic uses. 

In Isabel Seaton the social instinct was very strong. 
Conversation was to her a game, whereof it behoved 
everyone to know the ruies. Had she lived a century 



Vemacte tmfi n, 

or two earlier, she could have held a salon with the besti 
as it was, she was an ideal wife for a diplomatist or a 
politician. To ignore your partner's lead in conversation 
was in her eyes as bad as to ignore it in whist : to say 
the wrong thing, as heinous as to play the wrong card : 
to sit silent, as unpardonable as to revoke. In con- 
versation she was a veritable Sarah BatUe, insisting 
upon "the rigour of the game " : so now, according to 
her iP-tmct, she endeavoured to restore to animation 
Oie conversation which Mrs. Gaythome had nearly 
trampled to death. 

" I ani so interested in what you say about all good 
talkers being impressionists, Mr. Greenstreet I know 
exactly what you mean, and fully agree with you : but 
unfortunately it never occurred to me to put it as neatiy 
as you have done." 

Lord Wrexham looked at her In admiration. How 
ready she always was to put people at tiieir ease, and 
how successfully she oiled the wheels of life wherever 
she happened to find herself. Seaton was indeed a 
lucky fsUow I It was a pity that a man with such a 
career before him as tiie possession of so brilliant a wife 
ensured, should throw it away for tiie sake of those 
political wiU-o'-tiie-wisps which have lured men and 
their parties *o destruction ever since politics were first 
invented 1 Lo mused the Prime Minister. He made it 
a point of honour never to breathe a word to anybody 
against Isabel's husband: he made it a matter of 
principle not to feel bitter against nor envious of this 
man who had token from him the one thing that he had 
reaUy cared for in life ; but he found it a great comfort 
to say now and then to his own soul that Paul Seaton 
was no statesman. 
Grcensti*et's Uun face lighted up with pleasure. The 



ii8 



3n Snbfectton 



approval of Mrs. Pan! Seaton was a complimeQt which 
few men Ignored 
" I think I am right," he replied 
" I am sure you are," put in Gabriel Cajr ; " and that 
is why very accurate people are always so tiresome. 
My late Rector was that sort : one of the best men that 
ever breathed; but so accurate, and so anxious to make 
other people accurate, that I verily believe he would 
have liked to correct S. John himself for saying that 
even the worid itself could not contain the books that 
should be writtea* 

At this point Mrs. Gaythome was heard to murmur 
something about belief in the verbal inspiration of the 
Scriptures being absolutely necessary to salvation ; but 
fortunately she was so much engaged with a large tea- 
cake— judiciously administered by Charlie— that no one 
heard exactly what she said ; and she was unable, not 
from any lack of moral courage but for purely physical 
reasoM, more openly to testify to her acceptance of this 
aving truth until the occasion had passed by. 

" My horror," said Isabel. " is a person who relates an 
incident exactly as it happened ; because then it isn't 
worth relating at all." 

Carr fully agreed with her. " I have an uncle of that 
kind, who always uses inverted commas instead of the 
oblique oration ; and, you know how wearying to the 
flesh that is I Instead of saying, ' My wife's sister told 
me she had a cold,' he would say, ' My wife's sister said 
to me, " John ;" « Yes, Jane," I answered ; " John," said 
my wife's sister, " I have a cold."' " 

By this time the tea-cake had gone the way of all tea- 
cakes, and Mrs. Gaythome once more enjoyed freedom 
of utterance, 

"And did he marry her ? " she asked cheerfully. 



VetMoetpmii 



»'9 



f. 



Ev«n the redonbtab- 5 Cbrfel was nonplussed. 

. J5* T'f" ^""* ****" *^«° t° IntToduct so debatable 
« lady Into any conversation of his own freeuSu. 1.! 
was a lover of peace. " ' °® 

when^sJl'^h^r*'';:;'' T °°* ^"y ^mshcd asfde 

w l\^ *° '"'*"' ^ *•«*« he eventually married 
her. Not that I should blame him If he did ff" f«,m 

wires siste.. Who, I should like to know, is so fit a 
guardian of the children a, their aunt? I'alw^;, Sid 
SonM^- K°™' ^.*' '^ "'y«>'"& happens to me I 

ss^Thtirstadt^rjircS-ir 
sSd^^^'- M-aieL^wtrt?;:; 

"And did the late Mr. Gaythome share your 
SSTsmSr "^ "^^ *»""«'""'' "»'«<' s' 

wife?:/stt; s* ■''^" °' °"^* ^*^ * '»«"«<' 
~ pieruSiSSr '*•" """""'^ ^"'"'•^^ '• " ««> -« 

caI^^IJ ^"T- ''"■"'' ^''y ''« of »" "en should have 

SXl i!L~"*^""^ "'• Gaythome's wWow 
«*fl«ctive!y; "because Maria was the very image Tf 



IM 



9n Snbjectton 



toe. It would have been almost u good at bavlnff ma 
back again." 

"It waa atrangBi" aaiented Carr, with a glance at 
Isabel's preternaturally solemn face; "veiy strange 
indeed." 

"But where 1 do blame your uncle," contuiued 
Mrs. Gajrthome, once again turning and rending the 
unoffending Gabriel, "is for talking about his deceased 
wife's sister's cold, and making such a fuss about it; 
and you can tell him so from me if you like. It was 
enough to make the poor woman nervous, and lead her 
to imagine herself for worse than she really was. There 
b no greater mistake than to talk about one's ailments." 

"Except to talk about other people's," Isabel added. 

" Yes, Isabella, you are right It certainly makes the 
other people nervous. But I never knew any. jng like 
the young people of the present day for talking about 
their diseases. For my part, I think it positively 
improper." 

"You consider there is indelicacy in the discussion 
of delicacy, do you, Mrs. Gaythome?" suggested 
Greenstreet 

'I do, Mr. Greenstreet In my young days people 
were not always turning themselves inside-out for their 
friends' inspection." 

" It isn't only the young who are guilty of this folly," 
argued Isabel. "I never meet an old gentleman 
nowadays who does not, so to speak, wear his liver 
upon his sleeve for daws to peck at" 

" Modem complaints aiways end in i/is,' continued 
Mrs. Gaythome. "I disapprove of diseases that end in 
iUs.'' 

"Still, you must admit they might end in something 
worse," said Carr. 



Venmcre ftnl m 

Mn. Gaythorm oujestical]/ %nored mch iU-tlmed 
tewty. - When I wu young, the complaints that people 
•ufiered from did not end in Ms, they ended in ae/i* • 
and nobody talked about them." ' 

By thii time she had slain the conversation even 
beyond Isabel's revivifying powers ; so-tea being 
finished— Lord Wrexham suggested a move into the 
garden. 

The company went their various ways ; an<' Fabia 
soon found herself alone with Captain Gaythome in a 
secluded part of the wood. Strange to say, his presence 
did not irriute her just then. She had seen the 
expression upon Lord Wrexham's face when he looked 
at Isabel ; and she knew from that instant that her own 
hopes of ever annexing the Prime Minister were vaia 
Therefore she was suffering from the combined pangs 
of envy and disappointm jnt Also she had felt herself 
left out in the cold ever since she came to Vemacre— a 
feeling to which she was accustomed, but which hurt 
bet more cruelly every time she experienced it; and 
this increased her chagrin and miseiy. So when 
Captain Gaythorne followed her across the lawn and 
into the wood, she felt for the first time a sense of rest 
and security in the society of this big, silent, devoted 
man. V. was a comfort to find anybody who really 
adored her, in this easy, pleasant, cruel English society. 
Love was the thing for which her soul most passionately 
craved; love given and received; and she had never 
had her share of it True, Ram Chandar Mukharji had 
offered it to her in extravagant excess; but she did not 
care for the adoraUon of such as he. She was enough 
of an Englishwoman to despise her mother's people^ and 
enough of an Oriental for the English to despise her • 
and love which the did not fuUy reciprocate could never 



It* 



911 Sn»i<ctfen 



wtiify her. Poor Fabiat life wm too htrd for her 
Ju»t then, u indeed it tlwayc had been ever since the 
could remember. MukhaijI wrote cunitantly to her, 
and the enjoyed and appreciated hli letten. She 
knew that faitellectually he was immearanbly Charlie 
Gaythome'a auperior; yet at the present moment the 
admiration of the brainless young British soldier was far 
more acceptable to Fabla's wounded spirit than Ram 
Chandar's lifelong devotion. 

She waited for Charlie to speak, with considerably 
more kindness and patience than she usually accorded 
to his conversational efibrts ; and made up her mind to 
be what women call " nice to him," whatever he might 
choose to say. 

For some time the two walked on without speaking. 
Thxy were both naturally silent people— the woman 
because she thought too much, and the man because 
he thought too little-so there was nothing unusual in 
this; and Fabia calmly awaited Charlie's utterance 
with the pleasing certainty that it would be more 
soothing to her vanity than stimulating to her mind. 
Though he was never clever, he was invariably 
complimentary. 

At last he broke the silence. " I can't stand that 
ass Greenstreet I " he said. 

Fabia was surprised. It was not at all what she had 
expected him to say, end she saw no reason for such 
violent hosuiity either, as Mr. Greenstreet had never paid 
her the slightest attention ; but she knew irom the sound 
of Charlie's voice that he was very angry indeed. 
"Why not? "she asked. 

" He was making fun of my mother all through tea, 
the confounded bounder I Didnt you hear him ? " 
Fabia felt as if a doqcbe of <xM water Ind suddenly 



9tamac pack t»$ 

been flang in her face. So it wu bit motlier't tattlei 
th»t be wu fighting, and not hen I It was the old 
•toiy over agala They really cared for nothing in the 
world but thenuelvet and their order, theie well-born 
English people. Even the simple and adoring Charlie 
was an aristocrat at heart 
" Perhaps he was," she answered coldly. 
" Of course he was, confound his impudence I And I 
won't stand it If he tries it on again. 111 kick him 
into the horsepond, Wrexham or no Wrexham I I'm 
not going to allow anybody's guests to insult my 
mother; and 111 let Wrexham know it pretty sharp I" 
Fabia hardly recognized the usually pladd and 
amiable Charlie in this infuriated young giant 

" And it isn't as if there was anything to make fun 
of in my mother, either," he went on. "Some fellows' 
mothers are a rummy sort, I admit; but mine isn't 
Of course some women do things that you can't help 
smiling at; though it's shocking bad form to let their 
people see you're laughing at them all the same. But 
my mother isn't that sort : she doesn't do or say things 
that make a fellow even want to laugh af her, don't you 
know ? " 

"I quite agree with you that it would be impossible 
to caricature Mrs. Gaythome." 

"Of course it would," said Charlie, mollified at once 
by what he took to be Fabia's assent to his sutement ; 
" thafs just my point Now some old ladies are down- 
right funny, there's no denying that ; though thafs no 
excuse for a man behaving like a thorough-paced cad." 

"I think," remarked Fabia skwly, "that there is 
only m ■ thing more aggravating than a man ^tbea he 
behaves like a thorough-paced cad ; and that fa vbea 
he behaves like an English gentieman." 



IM 



5R AOjectton 



^J!^!*^L ?""• *" te- fcU of W. own 

"For Instancy" he went oo, -1 dareny If wa knM 
hj-r. w. riiouW find Seaton^ «;ttelX a q„i^ 

fc.M^ "the old lady wai a bit Ignorant and old- 
"Mtoocd and narrow, and aU that lort of thing don't 
you know? And no blame to her. eltherl You Zi 
«pect tayhody who {.nt anybody to know anything ; 
^u^ B"t my mother 1> quite a different tUngI » 

Charlie opened hit eyet wMe, fa ai unbounded 
"«xem«,t a. if rte had aaked who Queen Zi^ 

J23l TiTk"^"' ^ ^ ""• ^-^ 
"?f™' Then he lemembeted how FaUa had once 

«Jd that Ac did not know that hi. moth? JT^SS 
which wa. even won* jhi. wa. bad enough, but n5 
•obMlasthat Not to know whence MnTGaXrae 
^ Aowed an indifference to hlrtoiy wuStS! 
higUy culpable; but not to know whither ^ 
Gaythome was going, proved an ig-.orance of theology 
wUch wa. poaitively appalling. Charlie wa. too po^ 
to testify openly to hi. artonirfmient at «ich a question : 
•o he merely replied : ^ ' 

"She was one of the Latimer, of Luska" 

" And who are the Latimer, of Luske ? » 

oitiS*^ ^^ *^ '^' ^"* ^»P*"*n Gaythome 
pWed ratiier U»an blamed such astounding mental 

SliaZ' ft ? J^ ^°"^'* ^""^ P^^ "^' than 
blamed her had Fabia confes«xi tiiat she did not know 
how to read and write. 
-They ai« the-the-well the Latimen. don't yoa 



VtmettUxk 



»«s 



of 



■Of coone. And to think of ■ Httl* mu^u i 

at a glance he ii not one of us." renllJi rhTu ^ 
good faith. ^ ^""° Charlii^ in aii 

.'S^'?*'i. '»•'»•••«'* of humour.- 

Fabia moved her shouldera iraoatfenrtw «.- u j 
not come into the wood la <Ser Kk JLt^ ^ 

W» to talk about hL ^laZslJrSr'" ''' """• 
pST ^^''^'^ **»" *'« enough to propose to 

that B^ S^.^IlT"""^' ""^ «Patiated upon 
w« good laajr-s attributes until the time and ^ 



ft 



Stt SubfccUott 



audience were alike exhausted : thereby paving the way 
for another to step in and to win the affection which h« 
longed for. If he gives twice who gives quickly, surelj 
he who asks tardily often receives but half: there ars 
many Esaus who only obtain the second blessing 
because they come and beg for it too late; 



CHAPTER IX 



GABRIEL THE PRIEST 

Whikunday dawned fair and bright ; and the Vcmacre 
ffi duly to church repaired at the appointed bo" 
I^rd Wrexham was a man who regularly attended 
Divme worship every Sunday morning and there wS 
a general impression abroad at Vemacre-though he 
^l^TdoXS" '"'°"^*-**"^ hecxpecLhis 
Vemacre Church was a rare and perfect specimen of 
Norman architecture: and as Isabel Seaton^tTn t£ 
beautiful and ancient edifice, and watched the sunlieht 
pourmg through the old stained windows upon Se 
brows of the stone Crusaders lying asleep upS^ th^ 
tombs the atmosphere of the prayers of wuntl^ 
generauons stole mto her soul and filled it with a er«t 
peace. For long centuries the incense of prayer had 
nsen up to Heaven from this little westeL tempV; 
and now she. too was adding her humble petition to 
the unbrokw. chain of ceaseless supplication-she. too. 

Z^"^ ?'r ^r"' *? "^^ "S^-^'^'f intercession rS 
departed samts. For a time the overpowering influence 
of an histonc Church seized her and held her in iS 
grasp. The hymn of praise which she was now sineins 
had been begun In Jerusalem on this ve^r day nSJly' 
Umeteen centui«a ago: and it would sound on down 
1*7 * 



ta8 



9n Subiectton 



the ages yet to come, until it was at last merged In that 
new song thundering upon Mount Zion, which no man 
could learn save those which were redeemed frooi the 
earth and had the Father's name written in their 
foreheads. There had been no break In the continuity 
of that song; no pause in the uplifting of those prayers; 
no extinguishing of that sacred fire which was first 
kindled by the cloven tongues when the Apostles were 
all with one accord in one place. 

Now, alas I the disciples of the Master are no longer 
In one place with* one accord: the primitive state of 
unity has long gone by. There have been strifes and 
persecutions where there should have been love and 
peace: yet the chain of prayer and praise remains 
unbroken and intact: although even devout men are 
apt to foi^ret that though there Is but One Church, 
there are divers forms of utterance In that Church ; 
and that It Is still given to each of us to hear, every 
man In his own tongue wherein he was born, the 
wonderful works of God. 

When the sermon began, Isabel attuned herself to 
listen, for she was ever athirst— like the Athenians of 
old— to hear some new thing ; but It turned out to be 
one of those discourses which Geoi^ Herbert had !n 
his mind's eye when he said: " God takes a text and 
preacheth patience." So Isabel's thoughts were driven 
back upon herself; and her patient mediutlons took a 
personal turn. 

She thought of herself and Paul, and of how their 
future lit' was going to shape itself She dwelt with 
a r^rret half tender and half hnmoroos upon her 
husband's wonderful power of seeing only one side of 
a question, and that always the brighter side. She did 
not as }«t understand that it is the men that ace («I]r 



«al»rtei tbe driest „, 

the wifeacrrwrsi^^^Vc ;j^^^^^^^^^^ -""- «''«" 

The wise men have their nit/ •»u°''" mountains. 

could not roll o'lr::™^ ; Vi?h J s-.^^ -'J'* 

not place them in the forefront^the .^.f^ ' "' ** '^° 
them with the leadershio of forlorn k '^*"\"<" «trurt 
heads that watch and ^^/^ T ''°P*'' ^* '" t*"' oW 
but it is the Joung shoStTh .~"^^^^^ '"''^ '^^"^J 
make their wa^ thr^^ltLwS* *'"'' "''' ^■°'"« "<• 

Isabel loved her husband with ati i. u 
rever^ced him with all her sou Ifaul she'har/'''*' 
passed the final and most rfiffil.'i* . ^^^ "°*y«t 

mission, and acauirSthr.. ?^f- * *'^* "' *'<■«=•/ «"»>■ 
thansh;did:rSo„rS"^^^^^ 
by facts-must invariably^o„„t7;l"2h^^r^ 
woman who is imbued witM? "8'''~'»°«» to the 

aJ:tt^i:L^S;ere-nrr iff- ^-''^ 

between tS two niurL ^.^f . The difference 
love, made it dScuIt f^^^ "'' ^* '"^ensified their 
other; and yet fch !-» ^"^ -° ""d^^tand each 
Paul Sieved n"he ideTs "e of V'' compensation, 
than Isabel did • his wo!ti ^'""'" "*'"« ""w 

with her,2 and iT^r^"' *'""'j' P^P'**' 
hand, his ver/beSn hi •J"'"' ''**' °" *"« ^t^er 

it when itSCtVfe^S'^Sirtter TJ 
an abundant tolerance towarfs IS thff ^f "'''"' 
weaknesses of her fellowr ?h^ T , ',"'^ »"*' 

world were not her^^s nnr • ! t"'"'"' °^ ^*'l'«''s 

and womenHhe'Srshe^L^'n^JLTtS;'"" 
disappointed When they comported tSS-iv:!^"! 



T- 



,,• 9n SuDiectfon 

ing to their kind. But Paul, it must be admitted, 
was sometimes both. 

After indulging in sundry half-humorous, half-pathetic 
regrets over Paul's singleness of eye and blindness of 
heart (as she considered them), Isabel's thoughts flew 
to the possible Governorship of Tasmania as the one safe 
refuge from the dangers and follies which assailed her 
husband. There he would be safe for a while, and 
would have time to learn that wisdom which only 
time can teach. And it would not only be a safe 
city of refuge; it would be a glorious palace of 
delights. Isabel had been very happy out in India 
long ago with Sir Benjamin and Lady Farley; and 
she had ever since looked upon the life of a Colonial 
Governor as the most perfect form of earthly existence 
possible, bar one ; the one thing more utterly delightful 
than the life of a Colonial Governor being the life of 
a Colonial Governor's wife. 

To feel that such a lot was practically within her 
grasp made her almost dizzy with happiness; it would 
be the realization of her most cherished castles in the 
air— the fulfilment of her wildest dreams. She could 
imagine nothing else on earth that she should enjoy 
10 much as thus playing at being a queen; it would 
suit her artistic nature and her dramatic instincts down 
to the ground, she thought ; and she revelled in the 
contemplation of the mere possibility of it. 

And Isabel was not the only one who saw visions 
In the old village church on that summer Sunday 
morning : Fabia also dreamed dreams. She was sitting 
near to the tomb of one of the ancient lords of 
Vemacre, who wore upon his helmet the head of a 
Saracen maid : and Fabia recalled the story of this old 
Crusader, which his descendant had related to her on 



Otbtui tbe priest ,„ 

titeprewdlng evening. Sir Godfrey de Rexham had 

STed thf f rr •'^ "•' ^*'««'"> "O" »ft" »>« 

S n ? u"'" "'*''^ °' Breat beauty-saw the 
fh/'-JT?'"."''^ ^*'" •■" '"^^ ^^'"'h him SecretrJ 
she visited h.n, .. his dungeon, and offered to effect his 

S. but s.? ri^r '*" *''"^ ^'^'^ *''°'P*''«'>" -«" 
p-ea^ but Sir Godfrey was 3 man of honour; and he 

tterefore confessed to the lady that he was ZJj 

teind K ,^°K °^ •"■' °^° country-women, and^ 
bound-should he ever return to England-to m^ 
that lady: so that escape, upon the terms now off«ed^ 
w|« impossible. But the Moorish girl boast<r?St 
niost precious of all possessions. .0 absolutely uTselfiS 
love; and she still effected the escape of the Sht 

sLr;'"" "!;•' :° ^"^'^^^ *" Ahisiad^v*' 

Which he accordingly did. and lived happily ever after 
but he hen.^forth wore as hi, crest the head of a 
Saracen maid, in token of his gratitude. 

And as Fabia Vipart looked at the crest upon his 

SsSlbf^h ?.'^'°'"*^^*"»'«' fi'ledherheS So 

cold were the English and now wrapped up in them- 

ZZ T '•? r'' °9^- She wo„der^ha?hapSn^ 

L die r K^f ^'\"""' *^ '"''6''* ^ fled Did 

irtL?*^ " ^V^^' '^''y ^"' *««»"« she had 

cS!n. •^P' of his enemy, and had allowed a 

StS^t V^" "P°" ** *^*"*y ••f »>« <■»«' Upon 
t^n^"*!?'**' *''""*; 't only busied itself^ 
S^ r"^ 51'? °' ">" Engli,hm*an_in chron^J^ 
^m^^^,°^ ^ highly respectable wife, amfS 
uumoer of his commonplace childim Sohttdw^ 



»3» 



9n SnDjectfon 



however, was his marble effigy that Fabia did not 
blame the maid for having loved him : and beautiful 
indeed was the female head upon his crest — beautiful 
somewhat after Fabia's own fashion. But there was no 
beauty in the face or figure of the woman lying by his 
tide, mentioned in the fading inscription on the tomb as 
" Dame Fhilippa, his wife." Hers was a stiff, prim kind 
of face, made still stifTer and primmer by the severe 
and hideous dress of her time. And he had given up 
the Moorish girl for a woman such as this I How truly 
English of him, iaid Fabia to herself with a little 
scornful smile. Fabia wondered who this lady had 
been before her marriage : perhaps one of the Latimers 
of Luske, or one of the bearers of some equally 
respectable old name which the English love to conjure 
with; for apparently to the typical British mind the 
glory of a long line of noble Oriental ancestry 
was as nothing compared with the overpowering 
honour of being born a Latimer of Luske — or its 
equivalent 

Then a change came o'er the spirit of Fabia's dream, 
and she began to envy this Eastern maiden instead of 
pitying her : envying her because it had been given to 
her to love another so much that her own happiness 
became as nothing. After all, there was something in 
this love which transfigured life and glorified death as 
nothing else could do ; and Fabia had never tasted it — 
never known for an instant what it was to love another 
better than herself. She wondered if this had been her 
own fault, or the fault of her circumstances. She was 
too clear-sighted not to blame herself when blame was 
due, but she was not sure in this case whether she 
deserved it She knew that she would gladly have 
loved if she could — thankfully have merged her own life 



Oaotiel tbe priest t,] 

and happiness in the life and happiness of another ; but 

Sf ^""Z *'',*'° '° "*™*** *" ^^"^ ^° <!«>««» her 

whoever they might be-always see clearly the fauhs 
of those about her; yet while she plumed herself upon 
her own open vision, and despised the blind credulityof 
other people, she could not help envying simpler women 
their unshaken and unshakable conviction that their 
!L" Pf ';";"'a'.husbands were infallible and omniscient ; 
and that the judgment of those gifted beings on any 
and every subject under (or even above) thi sun was 
absolute and final. Such perfect confidence in the 
other partner to the transaction would certainly very 
much simplify the difficulties of married life ; but wheii 
was Fabia to find the man who could inspire her with 
such confidence? 

In vain she ran down the list of possible husbands. 
Captain Gaythorne was out of the question, he was 
such a consummate fool. Lord Wrexham had rank 
and dignity but he lacked the magnetism of personal 
charm, whidi to Fabia was indispensable. Her cousin, 
Mukharji, dommated her intellectually; but he was 
wanting in that social prestige, which in her eyes 
counted for so much. Gabriel Carr possessed physical 
beauty as well as mental power; but-although she 
admired him more than any man she had yet seen- 
she felt that there was an almost feminine quickness of 
perception and subtlety of thought about him, which 
would always prevent her from acknowledging him as 
the superior power, and cause her to n»ard him rather 
as an equal. 

In the depths of her heart she knew that she longed 
to find her master-she felt her very soul was crying 
oat for the touch of a conquering hand. And she knew 



134 



}n Snblectton 



tother, that if ever she did find such a one — a map 
who would rule her absolutely with a rod of iron, and 
would prove himself once and for all stronger than 
herself— she could come to his call, whoever and 
whatever he was, and would submissively acknow- 
ledge in the face of all the world the divine right 
of such a king. 

There are two types of women in this world : the 
woman who is seeking for her master, and the woman 
who is seeking for h«r mate. They are equally normal — 
equally feminine : there is no credit in being of the one 
sort — ^no discredit in belonging to the other. Yet it 
behoves every woman to find out to which classification 
she belongs, and to marry accordingly; lest haply 
she should discover too late that she has chosen a prince 
to take the part of a playfellow, or a comrade to wear 
the crown of a king. 

For the last few weeks the friendship betv«en Fabia 
and the Vicar of S. Etheldreda's had beeu growing 
apace. Carr had seized every available opportunity 
that he could snatch from his busy life to see Miss 
Vipart; and Fabia had made such oppcirtunities as 
easy and as frequent as she could. But the two 
regarded their friendship for each other from entirely 
opposite points of view. To Fabia, Gabriel was merely 
a man who attracted her, and whom woman-like, she 
meant to subjugate: to Gabriel, Fabia was the only 
woman in the world. 

His life had been so busy and his mind so absorbed 
in his work, that he had hitherto given but little 
attention to women and their ways. He had dealt 
with their souls to the best of his ability, but had 
not concerned himself much about their hearts: 
be was intent upon preparing them collectively for 



Oatrtel tr>e frtiest iss 

a home in Heaven, but It had never yet occnrrad 
to him to offer one of them individually a home 
on earth. 

But when Fibia Vipart came and sang to him, then 
suddenly the face of the whole world was changed. 
Nothing was as it had been before. For him there 
were new heavens and a new earth; fresh flowera 
bloomed around his feet — unknown stars disclosed 
themselves to his view. She seemed to touch his 
whole life as with a fairy wand, and to :"rn the 
dreariest pathways into streets of gold. 

They had talked much to each other, and upon many 
things ; that is to say, Gabriel had talked and Fabia 
had listened, putting in the necessary word here and 
there to show that she understood. And in thus 
talking, Carr had revealed his inmost soul to Fabia, 
and at the same time to himself— for it is in talking 
to other people about ourselves that we, rather than 
they, learn wh t manner of men and women we are. 
He believed that Fabia had shown him what she really 
was; and he was accordingly grateful to her: he did 
not know that he had shown himself what he really 
was by endeavouring to show the same to her. " Know 
thyself," is advice worthy of being followed ; but we 
rarely get to know ourselves except by making our- 
selves known to others; which accounta for the fact 
that the most reserved people are, as a rule, the people 
who are least cognizant of their own failings and 
excellencies. 

And Carr had also leamt a great deal about Fabia 
as well as about himself. He understood far better 
than she did that her faulta were the outccme oi 
circumstances rather than of character; he knew tiiat 
she only wanted that master>hand, for whic at present 



«3« 



Sn Siiltfecttoii 



the wu vagnely groping, to develop her Into u fine • 
woman inwkidly as she now was outwardly — to make 
her heart and soul as admirable as her mind and body. 
He recof^ized the passionate, fiery, loving nature at 
present hidden underneath the cold and bitter and 
sarcastic exterior; and he knew that it only needed 
the kiss of the faity-prince to awaken the sleeping 
beauty to life and love. 

But there was one thing about her which he did not 
understand : and that was the absence of any religious 
element in her natur^. The naturally unreligious woman 
is very rare; but she nevertheless exists. In most 
women the religiou" instinct is strongly developed ; and 
it is a good thing fc the world in general that this 
should be sa But there is a minority who are prac- 
tically without this instinct altogether ; and this minority 
have to be reckoned with, and their deficiency supplied. 
The unreligious woman need not necessarily develop 
Into an irreligious one: in fact she not infrequently 
proves herself precisely the contrary: but religion must 
come to her through the channels of her other attri- 
butes, as she has no natural aptitude for it ; and these 
channels are usually found In her love for some good 
man or woman, who becomes to her a messenger of the 
gospel of peace. 

Milton's Eve was a woman of this kind, or he could 
never have written the line, " He for God only ; she for 
God In him." The naturally religious woman loves 
her husband because she loves God: the naturally 
unreligious woman loves God because she loves her 
husband. The modes may be different, but the final 
results are much the same. 

But it is difficult for any man to realize that there 
may be a woman without this instinct altogether : and 



0«»cie[ the tttut t„ 

Gabriel made this mistake In his estimate of Fabla's 
^"'.w' u"° ''"'' di»covered upon further acquaint- 

believed her to be when first he heard her singj and 
he had also discovered that she was a far finer 
character than other people-than even she herself 

7J^f i^u""?'' /'"■ ^^"«'- •»"* he failed to 
undersUnd the simple Paganism of her nature-he 
had no Idea how utterly she was lacking In the 
religious Instinct 

fJu' '°°l' */'"? •>« *" to"-" asunder between his love 
for her and his devotion to his work. Then gradually 

he had at first assumed, opposed to each other-that 

W,«'!:^""n.'P ""•."*"' •*•"**« "'" '» following 
bw .acred calling. How Fabla's great gifts, rightly 
dedicated would aid in the great wofk of saving Si 
souls and bringing them to God, he thought; how the 
influence of her face and her voice would brighten the 
crfort-Tr""?"""'"^, *° •"■' •='"^ee; and how the 
^^S ~? K 'PS'"*" "^ ^' '°^« "d companionship 
would refresh and strengthen him for the fulfilment of 
the most strenuous and arduous duties that he could 
ever be called upon to undertake I 
filiif *ll'**** ^'^^Posscsslon of him, Gabriel's heart was 

Fabia to be his wife as soon as he thought she had 
known hi ,f ^d hj, 3p,^^ ^f ,^j^^^ longLugh to S 
able to „,ake a wise decision. He was fully aware that 
fte lot u.> was about to offer to her was no bed of roses ; 
but he was also aware that it was not in the vapid 
amusements of a life of pleasure and gaiety to satJfy 
^ cming, of such a soul as hers. He had leanj 
that she was not as perfect as he had at first believed 



I3t 



Sn SnMection 



iwr to be ; bat h« had alio leant that there were 
poeriWHtiei of perfection In her— at indeed there are in 
everybody, although some of lu are quicic to hide them 
In ounelvei, and slow to discover them in others. 
Nevertheless in every man and every woman there is 
the gem of perfection, which some day— though neither 
here nor now— diall develop into absolute fulfilment: 
for God made man in His own image ; and if man could 
ever finally destroy the image In which he was made, 
then would he prove himself to be greater than his 
Maker. 

It was an intense joy to Gabriel to find that Fabia 
and he would spend Whitsuntide at Vemacie together. 
But keen as the tempution was, he would not have 
accepted Lord Wrexham's invitation to leave his Church 
and parish at one of the great Festivals of the Christian 
year, had not his doctor told him that he had been 
working too hard of late, and must make up hU mind 
either to take a short holiday, or to have a long— 
perhaps a permanent— one forced upon him later oa 
So Carr chose the lesser evil, and went away from 
London. 

When first he left town he went for a week or two to 
Gaythome Manor; then he came for Whitsuntide to 
Vemacre; and alter that he was going to stay with his 
mother for a month or two to complete, as he hoped, 
his cura But the fact that he was overdone and out of 
health, made him turn to Fabia, and to all that she 
represented, with increased eagerness. He had never 
before realized how much he missed the feminine 
element in his life and lot Until now he had beUeved 
his work all-suffidng. In health, Gabriel the priest had 
ever been stronger than Gabriel the man ; but who 
ihali blame him if In sickness the more human part ot 



!2s::ir rift;'?- '•"-« '^'^ - 

very happy. i„ m. nmSrLu *'^*" • *"*• •>« '»" 

POMew- In the nature of m«If "^ ^" "°* 

el<»ely akin to l<^7tte mom«tT'".f^ '^ '^ 
•<«yfor a man-to real^LZ^T.^'*' '**'" **» *■«' 
help «d comfort wS!!!?^i/* J ^,J'J'*'^*° 
heart, have already pa„ed out of th? ^''T' '"''' 
Perhaps they neverloWTo^n ?' ""^ ''"?''«• 

taken ««e«mSywhichTv^J""''' "l''" ^ ^ 

SL^x^r^r^L^s^r 

-^.thekTnH'SuJS-i--^-^^^ 

less strong a man is elthi^^ZL ° .r*"*""" = •"*" ^ 
Ie« powerful fa hVlp^i'XtSS;"."'"*"''*'' *^ 
She would be his devo^ «fW ,1 '^ synpatUe* 
worshipper rathJ^tSn^^n?^" "^ "* ^^"'^ 

J..^.nd Which , have^beentX^'sl^^rrTon^ 

.u.rt";:'u*t^.^\rhr it^: »^ ^^ ^ -- - « •» 
huiri^Sid-rras-rtTrT--^ 



140 



9n Snbfectfott 



was a complete string of notes-of-interrogat!on In bet 
beautiful eyes at that moment She possessed to per- 
fection the charm of looking interested when a man 
was talking to her ; and perhaps that is the greatest 
charm that any womaa can have. It Is the women 
who can listen that are the attractive women — at any 
rate to the opposite sex. They may talk as well, if they 
like— just enough at any rate gracefully to fill up the 
interstices in the conversation while the man is prepar- 
ing his next remark ; but, above all things, they must 
be adepts in the ant of listening, if they wish to' belong 
to that fascinating sisterhood who are colloquially 
described as " men's women." After all — if we are to 
be perfectly candid with ourselves — which of us goes 
into society to listen to what other people have to say, 
except in so far as it suggests to us what to say next 7 
Who wants to hear about the funny sayings of some 
other man's child, except as a prologue to the recital of 
the for apter and wittier remarks uttered by our own 
more interesting and intelligent oifspring? We go into 
society not to listen but to talk : though we are prepared 
to play the game and to listen— or at any rate to keep 
silence — ^while the other person is having his turn ; pro- 
vided always that his turn does not last too long. But 
there are some people who allow it always to be our 
turn ; and how popular — bow deservedly popular — such 
people are ! Of which deserving communi^ was Miss 
Fabia Vipart. 

Encouraged by the notes of interrogation in his 
companion's eyes, Gabriel continued: 

" During the last few weeks a great change has come 
Into my life. I have learnt for the first time all that a 
woman can be to a man, both as a help and an inspira- 
tion. I have learnt how she can strengthen him when 



OaWel tbe pcfest ,4, 

he Is weak, and uphold him when he is strong ; how she 
can heal h.m when he is sick, and comfort him when he 
IS sorrowful. In short, how she can be to him all that 
God meant her to be when He created her as an 
helpmeet for man." 

"And who has taught you all this, Mr. Carr?" 
Fabia knew aU the moves of the game. 

"You; no one but you I When first I heard you 
sing, I had a faint glimmering of all that you could be 
to me if you cared; and every time that I have seen 
you smce, this truth has grown brighter and clearer 
bo now. my beloved, I come to ask you the greatest of 
all favours that a man can ask a woman_I ask you to 
be my wife." / « •« 

Fabia hesitated. She did not love the man; she 
knew that she did not; but he looked so handsome as 
He proffered his impassioned appeal that his beauty 
was almost irresistible to her. And then she wanted 
to be mamed to an Englishman; to have an assured 
position of her own. He was poor, but what of that ? 
She had money enough and to spare for both. And 
although she did not love him, she was nearer to lovine 
Wm than she had ever been to loving any man yet-as 
near, in fact, as she believed it was in |icr nature to 

"Fabia. my darling, I am waiting for your answer." 
And his voice, as he spoke to her. was as beautiful as 
his face. "I believe that I could make you happy 
and I know that you could make me mote absolutely 
blissful than it has ever yet been any man's lot to 

Still Fabia was silent, and no sound broke thr 
stillness save the hum of summer in the air. 
-My beloved, won't you speak to me, and tell me 



»4« 



9n StAfecnon 



that at any rate I may hope?" urged the man. after 
an interminable pause. 
' Then Fabia spoke, 

"Yes, I wiU marry you," she said ; "but only on one 
condition." And she had not the faintest idea that her 
condition was in any respect a hard one. In fact she 
considered that it would be to Gabriel's advantage as 
much as to hers. 

" And what is that, my dearest ? Though whatever 
it is, it is already granted." And he stretched out botii 
arms to her in passionate longing. 

" I will many you' on condition that you will give up 
being a clergyman, and come abroad with me. There 
is no need for you to work, as I have plenty of money ; 
and besides, you are not strong enough for it We will 
say &rewell to England for a time and travel everywhere, 
and see the world together, you and I." She really felt 
that she could not endure the lot of a clergyman's wife 
in an East-end parish ; and she did not see why she 
should. 

The outstretched arms fell limply to his side& He 
could not believe that he had heard aright 

"What? Give up my Orders? I do not know what 
yon mean." 

But Fabia went on unabashed, thinking that she 
was asking but a very little thing. 

" I only mean that you must give up your work, and 
Uve to enjoy yourself and to see the worid. There is 
so much to be seen, and so little time in which to see it ; 
and most people have either not the time or the money 
to see it at all But you and I will have both the time 
and the money : and there is nothing that we will not 
see. We will wander about at our own sweet will, and 
will pry into aU the secret places of tiw earth: we 



««Wel tbe pcfeat ,43 

J^U"™ *"". '"*''" "P°° *•''' provincial EnuHsh 
fen^onuice. .nd will be a, god, knowing goS^S 

She spoke witli unusual animation, for the picture 

£ feh th?.%r'* '^" .*''°"Sht of it the more certain 
«he felt that this was the lot which could make her 

gTZ'- K ^PP''*' *^*" anything whth Chart 
?nt^XJ^ ^ °''"- There was a nom^lic sS 

exi^nT« If *t "T u°"«''* °f *^« -iome-staying 

«1^^ *" *''"* °"' "**'' *» n°tWng that shall 
come between us and the fulfilment of our desire! 
Whatevw we wish to do. that will we da We S 

^^^ihlr^ ^"«^'^V''«t«. -th its teniitsldt, 
^ns,b,Ut.es. always dragging at our heels, but-like 
Bacon-we will take all Nature for our province 
Truly w^will see the world. And then, when^ l^S 
seen all that there is to be seen, and are gro^ng oS 
« bS-r '^"r'«'»«'-> « some souSm p1^' 

" tSnl f" "J"*"' *"«* ^" «^«>^ »way the 
remainder of our days in the sunshine." 

Thus she spoke, carried away by the vision that her 

orhe™-'T'^-"P' "'•' '"t°»«t«d by the thought 
of her commg happiness; and as he listened. Gabriel's 
love or her fell dead at his feet, slain by her ^wn hS 
The mtnnsic royalty of his priesthood rose up in h^ 
souV and spurned the base suggestion that bai juS 

«rtinguUbed In h.. scorr for the blasphemer who had 
thus dared to lay profiine hands upon the vcn^ Arkof 



>44 



9n Snbiectfon 






God. In hb eyes they had ceased to be man and 
woman : she was but the sacril^ious person who had 
defiled the Hol> Place, and he was the judge and the 
avenger. She had tampered with that which was 
dearer to him than life itself, the sanctity of his 
priesthood : and in so doing had placed herself 
for ever, as far as he was concerned, beyond the 
pale. 

"Fabial" he cried, "do yon know what you are 
saying? You tem^t me to commit the unpardonable 
sin !»^ glibly as you would ask me to walk across the 
Ut'/i You have insulted me and defied the God Whom 
I serve ; all is over for ever between us." And he turned 
on his heel and left her. 

Fabia sat still for a minute as one stunned. It was 
all so strange, so unexpected. But, with her usual 
quickness of perception, she at once realized what she 
had done. She knew that she had offended Gabriel 
past any possibility of reconciliation — that all was c it 
indeed between them. And she also knew that when the 
priest in him rose up and madi; him more than man, he 
was for the first time stronger than she, and was her 
master; and that at that moment she had learnt to 
love him. 

Just as she made this all-important and most 
disconcerting discovery, who should come sauntering 
up but Charlie Gaythome, with a cigarette in his mouth 
and a proposal in his eye. No sooner did he espy the 
vacant place at Fabia's side than he flung his cigar and 
his caution alike to the winds, and set to work with ell 
the dogged determination of an Englishman and a 
soldier. He succinctly and tersely conveyed to Fable's 
mind the importance of the compliment she was going 
to receiT«, and for which she had every reason to be 



OaHrtel tDc Weat us 

truly thankful. Charlie was not much of a talker, as a 
rule ; but when he had anything to say, he said it-and 
this happened to be one of those rare occasions. With 
regard to their respective social positions he extenuated 
nothing nor set down aught in malice: he was too 
much of a gentleman either to brag about his own 
advantages or to underrate hers; but he was also far 
too simple and transparent to hide from Fabia what a 
magnificent opening he considered it for any woman to 
be invited to succeed his august parent as mistress of 
Gaythome Manor. And, strange to say, it was this 
very argument— which at another time would only have 
roused Fabia's wrath and scorn-that on this particular 
occasion won the day. She could see what a grand 
thing Charlie thought it was to be Mrs. Gaythome— she 
knew that Charlie's world looked at things very much 
from Charlies point of view— and she wanted to do 
something that would win for her the respect of other 
people and restore to her her own. She was fceline 
hurt and lonely: and there is no atmosphere so 
conducive to the acceptance of offers of marriage as the 
atm<Mphere of pained desolation. Gabriel's rebuff had 
left her sore and wounded to the death ; and she felt 
that she could not go on living unless something were 
done to bring her wounded spirit ease. And this 
seemed the very thing that was needed. 

As Charlie's wife she would have an assured position 
and a devoted husband -the two finest supporters 
possible for a female coat of arms. True, she did not 
.ove him, and she did love Gabriel : but she was clever 
enough to know when a thing was beyond her reach, 
and too clever to waste her time in striving to attain the 
unattainable. Gabriel would never marry her now 
Charlie would : so she decided to accept Charlie. 



«4» 



SnSnDJecnon 






Chtrlie, of coarse, was in the seventh heaven of delight 
It never occurred to him that he had anything or any- 
body but himself to thank for the success of bis wooing. 
He had not yet learned that in many cases it is the hour 
rather tlian the man that is responsible for a woman's 
Ye& If a suitor will only time his opportunity correctly, 
he can generally ensure the advantage (or disadvantage) 
of being accepted. 

Gabriel, meanwhile, was engaged in a sore struggle 
with himself. Tru^, his love for Fabia fell dead on the 
■pot, idien she trampled on his liighest ideals and his 
most sacred beliefa by asking him to renounce his 
Orders for her sake ; but love, even when dead, is not 
obliterated, but still requires decent burial and a suitable 
period of mourning. 

Can's first impulse was to go right away from 
Vemacre and never to look upon Fabia's face again ; but 
reflection showed him that such a course— though the 
most comfortable as far as he was concerned — would be 
most uncomfortable for everybody else, and would 
therefore partake of the nature of selfishness: and 
Gabriel haid too much of the feminine element in his 
character ever to be guilty of selfishness in any form. 
He knew that it would upset things generally— and 
most especially his host, who was a r^ular old bachelor 
with regard to the inviolability of even the smallest 
plan— if a guest who had arranged to stay until Tuesday 
fled incontinently upon Sunday afternoon : and Gabriel 
—always more ready to consider otliers than himself— 
decided to spare Lord Wrexham this avoidable agony. 
Moreover, he felt that by making his speedy escape 
from the scene of his disappointment and disillusion, he 
wonkl pat both himself and Fabia in a false position : 
■0 he decided to buy his own sufiering out of ugh^ and 



•«W<I tbt ptt€8t ,^j 



CHAPTER X 



GABRIEL THE PASTOR 

On the following day, as soon u lunch was over and 
the company had variously distributed themselves as 
they thought fit. Isabel Seaton and Gabriel Carr went 
for a walk together. They were great friends — had been 
10 ever since they first met, not long after Isabel's 
marriage — and each enjoyed a talk with the other after 
the fashion of iron sharpening iron. They passed out 
of the garden and into the park, and then began the 
ascent of a grassy hill which culminated in the finest 
view in the county : and as they went they talked by 
the way. 

It was a glorious afternoon ; one of those perfectdays 
of early summer when the world is ablaze with colour. 
Every tree of the field had a particular green of its own, 
unlike the green of any of its fellows ; and the banks 
were cu^ed with flowers. 

"Has it ever struck you," asked Gabriel, "that 
summer is the carnival of colour, as winter is the 
carnival of form ? If you love colour, you will prefer 
the summer woods; but if form appeals to you, you 
wlil revel in the leafless trees." 

" To tell the truth, it never did ; but now you mention 
it, I feel as if the idea were my own. And this further 
explains why I like summer so muc)>^ better than winter, 
»4» 



Oabclel tbe tattot 149 

for the Mune reason that I spend hours among the 
pictures in the Academy and only minutes among the 
sculpture : I love colour and don't care for form. 
Everything has a colour to me — even sounds." 

Gabriel's face was 611ed with interest ; he loved new 
ideas ; and, failing them, he liked to find ne* garments 
for old ones, as he had learned the cramping efTects upon 
stereotyped forms. " How do you mean ? " 

" It is rather difficult to explain ; but I seem un- 
consciously to translate sound into colour before I 
can understand it For instance, to me, all the vowel 
sounds are represented by different colours." 

" How very interesting I What colour is A ? " 

" A is green, and E is blue, and I is white, and O is 
orange, and U is purple." 

"And what about W and Y? Haven't they got 
colours also?" 

" Oh I yes ; of course they have. W is red, and Y is 
yellow." 

" And why did you choose these particular colours for 
the vowel sounds ? " asked Carr. 

« There is no why or wherefore, and i didn't choose 
them. To me A is green and E is blue, just as the 
grass is green and the sky is blue : there is no choice 
or reason in the matter. It is simply how they appear 
to me." 

" Have other sounds colour to yon also ? " 

" Yes ; voices have. Soprano voices are pale blue or 
green or yellow or white ; contraltos are pink or red or 
violet; and tenors are different shades of brown ; and 
basses are black or dark green or navy blue." 

"Anything else?" 

" Yes, nearly everything. The days of the week have 
dlflerent coloun," 






»s» 



9ii Sttbjectlon 



** And what are they?" 

« Monday ia green, and 1 ueaday pink, and Wedneaday 
blue, and Thmaday brown, and Friday purple, and Satnr* 
day yellow, and Sunday white. Colour is ev«rythlng to 
me, and eveiytbing to me has colour." 

Carr looked at her thoughtfully. " Yes ; you are the 
type of woman who would be sure to love colour." 

"Why?" 

" Because what is vivid appeals to you more than what 
is suggestive ; becau^ what is expressed touches you 
more than what is understood." 

Isabel tossed her head "You don't mean that 
altogether as a compliment" 

« Perhaps not ; yet certainly not as the reverse. 
was merely stating a fact, and not drawing any deduction 
from it either one way or the other." 

" I see; You were giving me the beads without the 
application. I think I like tiiat smt of sermon best 
Heads or tails— I mean heads or applications ? I say 
heads, and let the applications take care of themselves." 

" It is the application that will do yoa the most good, 
Hra Seaton." 

" Vety well, then. Here's for the application, and I'll 
swallow it whole. ' To be well shaken before taken,' I 
suppose. Ill shake tb lead and swallow the application, 
and so all parties will be satisfied." 

Gabriel smiled. "But I have just said that there 
b no iq>plication. You can't swallow what doesnt 
exist" 

"Can't I. though? I've been swallowing the prind^ 
of the extreme Radical party for years." 

" I'm afraid you are rather disloyal to that section of 
the Liberal party to which your husband bekiogs," 
remoostfated Gabriel 



0aMel tbe t»»tot if, 

Inbd-a face grew grave. "I'm not really; I waa 
only joking; but I tee tbe mistakes into which it is 
nwWng. and I want to save it from them. And most 
wpecWIy do I want to save Paul from the making 

- Whr di»PPointment which they bring." 

Isabel looked at her companion with surprise that he 
•hould have wasted time and breath in the asking of to 
unneoessaiy a questioa "Because I love him, and 
therefore wish to spare him pain." 

" Pardon me, there is no • therefore ' in that sentence, 
fi^","!? » Bood-may be necessaor-for a person; 
and in that case because you loved him. you would nof 
wish to spare him pain." 
^"^But I da I hate Paul to be vexed about any. 

" You mustn't spoil him. You are his wife; not his 

mother. It doesn't do for a wife's affection for hef 

"S" *° ** *°° maternal: it stunts his spiritual 

"But a woman must be latemal to somebody." 
And there was that pathetic ring in Isabel's voice 
which always went to Paul's heart Gabriel heard it 
and it touched him also. 

"I know," he answered, very gently ; " but not to her 
husband, if she will make a man of him. Besides, it is 
^1 the wrong wa, about The husband is the head of 
the wife, and this U in accordance with God's ordinance • 
but we don't pet our rulers." 

Isabel's face grew perplexed. "Then do you mean 
to say that a woman ought to obey her husband even 
when she knows better than he does? " 

"Certainly; even when she thinks that she knows 
better than he does." Gabriel amended the sentence. 



*i* 



9n Snbjectioit 



Inbd wu quick to notice tlie amendment, and to 
fewnt It " But Icnowing better isn't merely a matter 
of opinioa'' 

" Pardon me, I thinic not infrequently it ii. People 
■ay, ' If I were So-and-So I should do such-and-«uch a 
thing ' So they would ; but that doesn't prove it would 
be a better or a wiser thing than what So-«nd-So is 
actually doing. It would merely be a different thing ; 
that is alL If I say ^hat I know better than you how 
to do something, it only means that I know better 
how to do it in my particular way. It doesn't follow 
that my way is any better than yours — or even as 
good." 

Isabel was unconvinced: this was not palatable 
doctrine to a woman who was as sure of herself as she 
was. But the fact that doctrine is unpalatable, in no 
way detracta from ita salutariness : frequently the 
reverse. 

"Can't you understand," she persisted, "that if a 
woman loves her husband, she naturally wants to 
prevent him from making mistakes?" 

"She can't do that : everybody must make mistakes. 
All that she can do is to induce him to make her mis- 
takes instead of his own. She won't make him wise ; 
she will only substitute her particular brand of folly for 
his: and for tlie life of me I cannot see any great 
advantage in that A man would far rather make his 
own mistakes than anybody else's — even than his wife's. 
His own natural mistakes are in drawing with the rest 
of liis diaracter, and assumed ones are not" 

* Then you think it is a mistake for wives to interfere 
too much in their husband's public life ? " 

Although Isabel might not like Gabriel's advice, she 
was sufficiently just to weigh it and to give it full 



0aMel tbe fstot ,„ 

coflslderaUoa She wu alwayi an emfnenUy »Mona'.!o 
womaa At least, nearly alwayi. 
" A very great mistake : often a fatal mistake." 
Cair spoke strongly. He was sore after yesterday's 
Interview with Fabia, and filled with horror at tbe mere 
Idea of how she-had she been his wife— would have 
used her influence to his soul's undoing. Our opinions 
are always tinged by our experience; and the more 
recent the experience the deeper the tinge. 

'• But you wouldn't object half so much to a husband 
who tried to stop his wife from making mistakes ? " said 
Isabel shrewdly. 

"That Is a totally different thing. I believe that a 
woman's place is to look on and cheer and lighten and 
help, rather than to dictate or do the work herself I 
always think that line of Charies Kingsle/s, 'Three 
wives sat up in the lighthouse tower, trimming the 
lamps as the sun went down,' conveys a very fair Idea 
of woman's place and duty. It is a wife's place to sit 
up aloft in the lighthouse tower, above the sordid cares 
and struggles of the business-worid, and to trim the 
llghte for her husband so that he may be guided In 
the right way, even though his sun be gone down • 
but It is not her place to embark on the high seas of 
business or politics, and try to steer his boat for 
him." 

Mrs. Seaton tossed her head, as she always did when 
annoyed or indignant It was a favourite gesture of 
hers. « Well, I don't see why it should be all right for a 
man to dictate to his wife, and all wrong for a woman 
to dictate to her husband. I don't see why a woman's 
advice to her husband should be a treasonable docu- 
ment, and a husband's advice to his wife an Act of 
Parliament" 



IS4 



9n Snbjectton 



"Because God ordained it so. There Is no other 
reason." 

Isabel was silent : partly because she did not know 
exactly what to say, and partly because she had not 
much breath with which to say it, as they had reached 
the steepest part of the hill just below the summit 
Tlie two walked— or rather climbed — on for a few 
minutes without speaking, and then they reached the 
top of the hill, and the whole glorious stretch of country 
at their feet suddenly was revealed to their view. It 
was one of those typical English landscapes — with 
green for^px>unds and blue distances, with near wood- 
lands and distant hills — ^which can never be actually 
described to anyone who has not seen them ; and which 
need no description to us who know and love them, for 
to us they spell the magic word ^om*. 

"Isn't it magnificent?" exclaimed Isabel, after they 
had gazed for a few minutes in awestruck silence; " It 
fairly ukes away one's breath— at least as much of it as 
the ascent has left" 

" It does : it is a wonderful view." 

"And so thoroughly English, and therefore to 
satisfying," Isabel continued. " Have you ever noticed 
that foreign scenery, however beautiful and magnificent, 
leaves you with a restless, hungry sort of feeling ; but 
that a perfect English landscape such as this, seems to 
■oak into every little crevice of youc soul, and to make 
you quite peaceful and content? " 

" I have. It is a more middle-s^;ed sort of feeling 
than the other, but much more a.-nfortable." 

" Middle-aged sorts of feelings are generally the most 
comfortable," said Isabel sagely. " When you are quite 
young you are so anxious to see what is going to 
happen, that you skip the book of daily life In order to 



0«Md tbe pastot 155 

get 00 with the story ; but as you get older you think 
more of the style and the characters and the dialogue 
than of the plot ; and so you are better able to enjoy 
and appreciate the work as a whole." 

Again the two ih'ends were silent, dwelling on the 
beauty of the scene before them. Gabriel took off his 
hat, and let the soft breeze cool his forehead ; and as he 
did so, the misery which Fabia had brought ujpon him 
faded away like a mist, and once more he saw plaia 
But his companion's eyes grew grave, and there was a 
pathetic droop at the comer of her mouth. 

" Isn't it funny," she suddenly remarked, « that there 
•s always something rather sad about the top of a hiil ? 
As long as you are dimbJng, you are fall of joy and 
energy and hope ; but when you get to the top every- 
thing changes, and you almost wish the hill had been a 
bit higher so that you might still be on the climb. It is 
the same with everything. We envy the people who 
have 'arrived,' and who have attained the summit of 
their respective ambitions : yet if we were wise in our 
envying, and directed it judiciously, we should rather 
envy those who are still swarming up the slopes. Hill- 
tops, on the whole, are rather sorrowful places." And 
Isabel sighed. 

"A somewhat pessimistic doctrine, Mrs. Seatoo, 
to be enunciated by one of the most popular and 
successful women in London!" said Gabriel, with 
a smile. 

" Nevertheless a true one" 

« I think not" 

Isabel raised her eyebrows. She had a great theoiy 
that it was the duty of the clergy to offer ample advice 
to the laity on all questions moni and religions : that a 
cfetfyman was a specialist in spiritual matters, just as a 



«s« 



9n Snbjectton 



doctor wu a specialist In physical ones; neverthdesi 
she was always slightly ruffled when the ghostly 
counsel, which she so freely sought, did not altogether 
tally with her own preconceived notions on any subject 
Wherein she was distinctly feminine, both in her long- 
ing for priestly assistance and her rejection of it when 
found. 

"Well, anyhow, S. Paul agreed with me," she 
retorted ; " he particularly mentions that he was always 
pressing forward and tad never attained." She felt that 
this was a clinching argument; and that an alliance 
between the Apostle of the Gentiles and Mis. Seaton 
formed an authority which few theolc^rlans would dare 
to dispute. "And surely 3rou'll admit that S. Paul was 
a past master in the art of contentment 7 " 

"Certainly," replied Gabriel "And why was he 
content ? " 

" Because he hadn't reached the top of the hflL" 

There was triumph as well as finality in Mrs. Seaton's 
tone. 

" Pardon me : he had reached the top of a good many 
hills. But he had learnt what you apparently forget, 
Mrs. Seaton; namely, that wh«i we have gained the 
summit of one hill, there are always plenty of higher 
pnet still for us to climb." 

"Oh!" Isabel had not & good answer ready, 80 
wisely confined herself to the monosyllable. 

Cairr continued : 

" I understand the feeling to which you refer— the 
sadness of the hill-tops ; but, belisvs me, it is an ignoble 
sadness. It either means that we are too easily satisfied 
with' our achievements and have neither the strength 
nor the courage to persevere ; or else it mean^ that the 
hiU we have just climbed was not worth the climbing; 



9tiWa tbe pastor 157 

In whfch case, It was a pity that we ever wasted our time 
and trouble on it at all." 
" I see. It hadn't occurred to me to look at it in that 

Isabel spoke slowly. She was always ready to see 
when she was in the wrong, although it must be 
admitted that the sight was not altogether an agreeable 
one to her. 

" S. Paul had not only mastered the art of content," 
Carr went on, «but he had also mastered the art of 
discontent He knew how to be abased as well as how 
to abound." 

" I believe you are right; but somehow that hill-top 
sadness seemed to me to be rather a beautiful and 
Interesting sort of thing. I quite piqued myself on 

"You would do," replied Gabriel, with a smile 
"Sadness is always beautiful and interesting to us as 
long as we are young and have never met it face to 
face." 

' " It was rather young of me, I confess I You must 
admit that I was old enough to know better." 
"Nevertheless you didn't know better, Mrs. Seatoa" 
Isabel, as usual, was quite ready to laugh at herself 
" I think you may take it as an axiom," continued 
Carr, "that when you feel what you call the sadness of 
the hill-top, the particular hill in question was not 
worth the climbing. It is a pretty fair test The hills 
that are worth climbing always lead us on to other hills 
that are siill more worth climbing : and thus are formed 
•the great world's altar - stairs, which slope through 
darkness up to God.' Therefore there is no time for 
•adness, and no place for it, either." 
"Yes, yes: you are right and I was wrong. And, 



iS« 



9ii WbieetiM 



after >11, I'm rather glad that there ii no occaalon for 
that particular sort of sadness, though 1 must admit 
I've rather enjoyed it at times. But all sadness is 
really horrid underneath, however nice and interesting 
it may appear on the surface : isn't it 7" 

Gattriel demurred. He was not going to commit 
himself to so sweeping a statement 

" My husband never suffers from the hill-top sadness," 
continued Isabel ; « the moment he has topped one hill 
he is bounding off to another, like a young hart. The 
fact that his hills are Hot worth climbing has no effect 
upon him." 
" Your husband is still very young." 
" I know he is : much younger than I am, though he 
was really born a year and a half earlier." 
" That has nothing to do with it" 
"Not it I Age is a matter of temperament rather 
than of time. Everybody is a certain age by nature: 
and the number of years we hzppen to have dwelt on 
this planet, is merely an incident which is nobod/s 
business but our own. Nothing will make my husband 
more than nineteen, however long he lives : while I was 
thirty-three and a half before I left my cradle. You 
are about five-and-twenty, and always will be: and 
Wrexham has never gone below eighty-four since he 
was bom." 
"And what is our good Mrs. Gajrthome?" 
"A good fifty-five, with exuberant prejudice keeping 
off age on the one hand, and mi^ilaced coovktion 
sUvfaf off youth on the other." 

Gabriel coukl not fail to ^>preciate this deacriptk>n ■ 
he knew Mrs. Gaythome so well ' 

Isabel went on : 
"It is Paul's youngncM that makes him so tmiy to 



(tabriel ne tutot 15, 

K«Ie hdehts that w not worth the icallng; and my 
oldness that makes me want to hold him back." 

Gabriel looked at her thoughtfully. This woman 
always interested him, she was so full of contradictions 
—so fresh and so iiasA, so wise and so thoughUess, so 
i^iy and so serious, all at the same time. But in spite 
of her fascination for him he felt it his duty to ad- 
minister to her ghostly counsel and reproof; and— 
having seen his duty— he was not the man to postpone 
it to a more conyenient seasoa 

" I ttink you are wrong in trying to hold him back." 
he said quietly. 

Isabel started. She was not accustomed to being 
reproved or found fault with, and she did not like it 
But she liked it better than not being talked about at 
all ; so she continued the discussion with apparent, if 
not sincere, humiUty. 

•rT^^^T* *'"'«' He'd make most awful blunden 
11 1 didn t 

"So yon have remarked before, and so I still presume 
to doubt But even if that is so, you have no right to 
hamper and hinder him." 

" Why not, I should like to know ? " 

« In the first place, because you are his wife, and so 
are in subjection to him, and are bound to obey and 
•erve him by your own vow ; and, in the second place 
because Us readiness to attempt the ascent of what you 
consider unscalable mountains, shows that he has more 
faith than you have, and so is farther advanced in the 
■pmtual hfei" • 

Isabel ftirly gasped. She had decided to reverence 
her husband, and was folly convinced that she dW sa 
Kcording to the dictates of Holy Scripture; but to 
«M» of reverence was a combination of indulgent 



i6e 



9n SnMectfon 



^ Why not ? That fa its name." said Gabriel 

spade a spade, and Branson's Extract of Coffee^r 
fection. But I should not call it faith as W„1t Ss" 
fSif^fl' *" ^ii"^^ ^'"■"e'- ^ should o^ly ^7" 

On, dear ; oh, dear I You are everv hif <,. t,- j 
suburban tradesmaa' I am^ays ?,Jng"n^"t: 
conv.n<« my ve^. respectable and supSS^p^isSneS 
SfnU r"",". '"^ *'"BS as relSous ^8*1" 
ttmgs are rehgious, or else nothing is: the« j, no 

and act and object of a man's life, or else it never r^lJ 
f;:^''««'ytWnginitatalL I bite the canJwS^ta 

«o^l«J . for unless a man's religion touches eveiythine 

tim^L*"^ '^ "^■"^' ^"* ^''"'•^ "»W be h«rd at 
"tk "':!;"f"««^-*«te' sentimentalist 

^i-^ *^ ""^ "° •■'*'*•" •»« ^'ent on rapidly, "of the 
rtupendous powe, of faith. Men say that th^ Lot 

feith which made miracles possible that is past" 

Then do you think that if a man had only faith 
eno^h he could scale every mountain ? " ^ * 

and^f w Whyhecouldsaytoit'Bethouremoved 

JoTf oiw hn^i"" " nothing that a man couli nS 
Z^uT^^^"^ ""'"S*' ^'^^-^^ ""■•^le that he 
could not perfona. The present age is not wi^o? 



o»bm toe i^utor 



»lck that the/mv^S,v? si "^' L'^ hands on the 
Md we use it on STI?' . [*" ""'^ 8°" »• «»«: 

"Do youthinkth!* J^, . '^** ^°'* «'a'k. 
Church^,.. SiSfbe? '"' °' ''"'^ " '•«'»*'> •" the 
the ko^an^"'^,?;^^" *Y-«nt day «,i,io„ „ ^ 

to the NonconC"'^ ^i"^'"?" * P"''"»«i and 
n.any Of then, it is n Jt tte " w °"j, '"*' ">-'' that to 
-both of body and souI-!th!r? ^ ?*^ ""*° «lvation 
more faith on L ^ SJIT'^^' ^ ^^ "^^ ^^ 
the miracles of the^ Otherwise we should still have 

d.y'L°reSiStldf?,«-t Of faith Of t^epresent 
hear people talk as tow/lo "*'*■>'» »i*«» me to 
prayer': yet ttL^eS " ?f «««riable «wwers to 
"all in i a^::rT^Si^T''^«--kab!: 
««rt of belief that strain, aftK^L * """" * '!"«' 
then swallows withoTieffoi 5 ':"?". •'^^^•"'d 
telegiaph-boyp '"'°'* the infallibility of a 

emotions-such m1o«T^sS°* ■^''o°«= the secular 
«» ««ctly for^n^ S "°°' *"*' *»« «ke-though 

perfect ha4o^th?tBu;htl'^."°* *!"''•'" 

8«ve; Shewaimadeofslteht^.,~"'P"'°"''''««w.» 

It was the moreZ^aS^^^^^^^th^.he; «rf 

"w personal side of life that 



i6t 



M Snbfcctton 



touched her molt cloiely. Gabriel would have made a 
splendid monk ; but lubel could never have been any- 
thing bat fifth-rate aa a nua Therefore ihe suddenly 
harked back to that point in the convemtion wliere 
Carr liad turned away from earth and began to aoar 
heavenward. 

" You said, firstly because I am his wife, and therefore 
am in subjection to him," she began: "what did yon 
mean by that?" 

With the quick sympathy and ready adaptibility of 
the man «^o has beoi tridned for the priesthood, Gabriel 
fell in with her mood at once. 

"I mean exactly what S. Peter meant when he 
said it," he replied : " neither more nor less. ' Likewise, 
ye wives, be in subjection to your own husbands.' It 
teems quite plain speaking." 

It is the fashion nowadays, in this very enlightened 
age, to talk much and not always kindly of the faults 
and failings of the dergy— of those peculiarities which 
distinguish them as a body from their lay brethren. 
But what about the special virtues which are theirs by 
right of their clerical training, and in which the laity 
are conspicuously lacking : the intuition, tLc symiyttiiy, 
the self-repression, the self-control, which we take as a 
matter of course in our spiritual pastors, but which we 
frequently seek in vain in the successful tradesman or 
the man of affairs? When the enemy has found 
occasion to blaspheme and is availing himself of the 
same, it is a favourite gibe of his to discover pdnts 
of resemblance between clergymen and women. And 
he is right As a rule, a clergyman, more than any 
otlier man, has the power of discovering otiier people's 
joya and sorrows, and throwing himself into them, in 
a way that is popularly suppoicd to be the pwrogat iv e 



«n^"S^ •«» HI. v«y cllfag tnbm him to 
wpprei. Wi own wttit. and widiei in attending to 

to. ^t. and wU« of U. flock: jurt .. . womi S 
twinrf to nipprett her own want! and wishes in 
attendfaj to the wants and wishes of hJl^il^ 
The ordinary male is not so trained: as a rale 
other people do not bother him with their troables. 
nor doa he bother them with his: he neither offm 
sympathy nor demands it He is more like a child 
!^ K»*r°^°' P°""»'"K cJ>fld«>«e simplicity and 

«^n\°f^'' ^^ *^'""«' ^ »n<J«»tood 
I«tty we what was passing in his companion's mind 

Sethis ^"* '?'••""'»'"'' •S«n4Su 
He knew that her soand common-sense was at war with 
her h,«b«.d's IdeaUsm. and that her womanlJJSSiT^ 
was at variance with her wifely submissici. Bu7to 
m«nt to teU her the truth when she gave Wm m 
opportunity; andifshedldnotgivehimanopportunit]! 
he meant to make onft t-t^^uniiy, 

But she did. 

- Su^wsfag that a wife knows better than her 

»±!f5r'^u"«"^' " *"'' *•»» the g«y mare ta rj^ 
then she oufj^t to obey and reverence him ?» 

"^°^''Jf^'*^^*''^y^^^^S^ton. Ofcourse 
she should influence him to the utmost of her ability 
and give him as good advice as she can. when he is 
taking any ; but she must never foiget that-by right of 
his oflice-the husband is the head of the wife;" 

". Even if he is an inferior article ? " 

"Certainly. As a Churchwoman yon believe that tha 
OBWorthinesa of a priest la no way interims with tlM 



>«« 



9ii SiAKctfOll 



efleacjr of the sacraments: as a British citizen you admit 
tiiat the personal character of a Judge in no way affects 
the validity of his sentences; and as a wiie you must 
therefore accept the fact that the faults and failings of a 
. man in no way obviate his prerogative as a husband." 

Isabel shrugged her shoulders. "You hold the 
doctrine that the king can do no wrong." 

" I do: and I consider it a very sound doctrine, toa 
Of course as a man he tan do wrong, but as a king he 
cannot; because the king and the priest and the judge 
and the husband are all— in their own way and for the 
time being— the ambassadors and representativea of 
God ; and in reverencing them we reverence the Divine 
Authority Which is for the moment vested in them ; and 
submit ourselves to every ordinance of man for the 
Lord's sake." 

Isabd looked ap with a glance of warm approbatloa 
" How nicdy you put things ! You have such a richly 
decorative mind, that you make quite common things 
seem positively gorgeous." 

"Do 'quite common things' refer to kings or to 
husbands?" asked Carr, with a smile. 

" Neither in particular, and roughly speaking, both. 
But yon have a knack of sticking haloes on to eveiything 
and everybody, and somehow transfiguring them. I 
never knew anyone like you at the halo-business, except 
a few occasional sunsets and certain hymns. There are 
some hymn-tunes that have precisely the same effect on 
me that you have ; make me feel good and glorified and 
treading on air." 

" I am glad to hear it" 

"Just now I feel as if I couldn't wait another minute 
without flying to Paul, and implicitly obeying him in 
something that I know to be utterly absurd. At the 



0iMel t»e tutot ,§t 

pwMnt moment I could die for a lort eaoM; or etaft a 
Wo"«n'. Uberd Fedenttlon without tuSa hlT I 
cou^d Indeed. And all becau« Paul la^uiZ'J 
you'vBituckahaloontoUm.- y»"«»wi«na 

"But I didn't make him your huiband ; you wlU admit 
OMt I nuy have arranged the halo ; but It wat you 
^o ^ to the wearing of the weddlng-rinV^'S; 
irMrrw« ""°v""* of /"e-wfll In the buslneM. after 
^bSSfSn ^*"'''''°8°«y«««n by dlvlM right; 
J^r^A fv ^T ' .**"* '«°'««ber, you elected him 
yourself In the first Instance." 

«n!!5l^ ^''* '. *"** ^'° ""^ «'«* ^ *•'«> : "d if there wat 

£ W1I J fT'"'"' «"«««* we are at the bottom of 
the hill J and I'll run and find him. and obey him this 

f^nT„^?h^»"?»!?" ^'°^°'' '''"'^ you h^ been in 
bSS^I ? °[u" ** *° hi. halo for fear it should get 
blown off when things are slightly breezy. I must uy 
there is a danger of husbands' haloes blowing off, if thw 
we not properly fastened on. But now Paul's 1, icuij 
^'^ItJ^t' f^ ? "^^ '»""' ""«^" bis chin, Uke 

n%s\'s;'im^v:rt'."''"'*''^^''^*^^*'^ 

"So have I : to some passing lady of their acquaint- 
ance: and then the wives can't alWay» put thJTS, 

e"Sl;, J",* ir"" ""^"' P'^"' *»'* *at »^ Tf 
ever hfa halo does tumble off. you can be sure that It Is 

J^°g^^ '"*'"°'^'* ^'wouldn't be his fault, poor 

nJ^°'^J* T?" ""*• ^ ^ «^"1 tbat you 
never do such a thing, Mrs. Seatrai." 

Isabel laughed good-humouredly. "Not I. It b 



*M Sn Sv^fccttmi 

•n mjr wen fer the Sofaut-ct-Anna to call, 'Hati 
offi': bat if ha baglna caUlag 'Haloaa offi'. I ikaU 
pretest It would nevar do <br my hnaband to b« 

without Us halo : it would be lo cold for hia and ao dark 
for OM, and so general^ horrid aU RMod I " 



CHAPTER X! 



JANET FIILD 

Whim the Whltiuntide party at Vemacre broke ua 
Gabriel went to complete hit enforced holiday and 
"^^*^f^M "trength at hit mother'g home in a 
•mall Midland vUlage about four mile* from Mercheeter. 
« wa» an ideal honiefora widow-lady of limited meant. 
Not mora than a cottage in size and deiign, but tUmped 
«U over with the fcdeUble and indeicribable lign/of 
refinement and ladyhood. The way in which it draped 
itidf with creepen was modesty personified, and sug- 
gested aU the sensitiveness and refinement which are 
■M«:iated with flowing veils and lace shawls. Its 
windows were so shaded with soft greenery, that they 
cwUd not properly lift their eyelids and face the sun- 
*lne ; and its chimneys wera so clothed with the sam& 
Oiat only the smoke, which now and agahi emerged 
from their half-shut mouths, proclaimed them to be 
anything so commonplace and obvious as chimneys at 
•11 Which things were ^mbolical of the character of 
the owner of the cottage; who had never called a spade 
a spade, nor looked a bare fact in the face, since the day 
she was bom. ' 

Eveline Carr was one of those people who arts known 
in their youth as - lovely young creatures," and in their 
Uter life as "sweet womea" She-was tall and sl«ht, 
167 



i6S 



Sn SnMection 



with fair Iiair and blue eyes, and a complexion that 
retained its apple-blossom tints even until the late 
.Jutumn of life. She was dcgiMt rather than stylish, 
lovable rather than fascinating. She was amiability 
incarnate, and was unselfish to the verge of insipidity : 
and, in fact, possessed all the virtues, excepting strength, 
courage, and a sense of humour. It really would have 
been difficult, even had her friends and acquaintances 
been so uncharitably inclined, to find any actual fault 
in Mrs. Carr's character:, the absence of certain 
excellencies was the worst of which anyone could 
accuse her. That she had left undone sundry things 
which she ought to have done, was sufficiently within 
the range of probability to entitle her to take her part 
In the General Confession: but that she had ever 
done anything that she ought not to have r'jne, 
was hardly credible to anyone who enjoyed the 
pleasure of Mrai Carr's acquaintance. Her mind 
was cultured and refined : but it was always enveloped 
in a soft haze, too indistinct to be called a mist, and too 
intangible to be described as a fog. Her distinguishing 
characteristic (if such a term could be applied to a 
character where everything was indistinguishable) was 
vagueness — vagueness in tiiought, In belief, and in 
conversation. 

In strong contrast to Mrs. Carr was her adopted 
daughter, Janet Field. Janet was no blood-relation of 
Mrs. Carr's ; if she had been, her claim would have been 
too obvious to appeal to that excellent lady. She was 
the only child of a fellow-officer of Eveline's husband : 
her fatiier was killed in action a few montiis after her 
birth, and her mother did not long survive him ; and the 
very fact that the infant had no claim whatsoever upon 
Mrs. Carr's charity, was the strongest claim that she 



9«net fUXb 169 

could possibly have had The only thing needed to 
clinch this appeal and to make it final and irresistible, 
was the feet that the child should be utterly destitute, 
and unable to repay Mrs. Can- for any of the care and 
expense which that good woman was prepared freely to 
lavish upon her; and this recommendation the poor 
baby possessed to the fulL Therefore Mrs. Carr-bSne 
herself the widow of a young officer in very straitened 
circumstances, with a boy of her own to bring up and 
educate-saw no reason why she should not at once 
apply for the vacant post of little Janet Field's mother- 
and the child's relations-being ordinary selfish human 
beings— were only too glad to take advantage of the 
pret^ young widow's inexperience and impracticability, 
and to shift tiie expense and care of tiie child from tiidr 
shoulders on to hers. Which they promptly did ; and 
then washed tiidr hands of all furtiier responsibility- 
thereby resigning for ever, in fevour of Eveline Carr' 
their vested interest in all tiie blessings pertaining to' 
the great "Inasmuch as ye did it to one of the least 
of these. 

So it came to pass Uiat Gabriel Carr and Janet Field 
were brought up as brotiier and sister, she being a few 
years younger tiian he. 

Janet proved to be a most admirable and healtiiy 
dement in the Carr household. WhiUt Gabriel wu 
Idealistic and tiieoretic, and his motiicr absolutely 
indistinct. Janet was tile embodiment of definite 
clearness. There was no vagueness about her — no 
atmosphere even: the lighto and shadows in her mind 
were as clearly defined as tiie lights and shadows in an 
Egyptian photograph. Even tiie " grey matter " in her 
brain could hardly have been so indefinite a colour as 
grey, as it is in the case of the rwt of US! it mutt really 



170 



9n SNbf ectfon 



feaw been actual black and whfte. or else It never omM 
have formed a part of Janet 

Janet not only knew exactly what she heraelf thoasbt 
upon every subject under the sun : she also knew that 
her. was the only point of view compatible with wi«lom 
Md hones^; a most comfortable form of knowledge! 

STt^^Sf •" r'*. """^^"^"S indulgence Sd 
maternal solicitude: the latter believed that she had 

^hl? '^""PI^ Gabriel with that absolute devotion 
wW^ combine the love of sister and of wife; and 
which is never felt save by those who fall in love as 
SSto '"*° ''^° *^ *'^' playmates as 

as the Carrs; but she was veiy pleasant-looking, and 
mrtwithoutacharmofherowa She was under rkther 
ttan over the medium height. «id inclined to be 
pbmp rather tfian slight Her hair was brown, and 

J, h,^ "^ ^f^l' '^ ^ ^ » •'"Sht pink colour 
in her rounded cheek& 

h J*.^J T^', *^'"""^ *•* G"*^'' t° f*'' in lo™ with 
her. «, she had long ago fallen in love with him. Men 

i«ep ^e conjugal «,d fraternal affections much farth" 
W than women da When a man promi«ts to be a 
brother to a woman, he means to be a brother to her- 
"S """k "i' Iws-with all a brother's reserves and 
i- nitations ; but when a woman promises to be a sister 
o a man-well, if she does not mean Tm to make lo,S 
to ncr. she means something singularly like 't 

st^liTf*" *^v ""'* ''°"'*''*"'' *«* Gabriel came 

S^thJ^"U"°"''' "'"' "«'">' d»''fiht«« were 
S^J^r^^I!*^.'^'"'" *° *"'~«e him. They 
showed this delight in their respective ways: his motto 



S«net fu» ,„ 

janei Dy Mdng that his bed was aired, and his waidroho 

Ttw nf'^r "'^'''''^ e»"»«'» «">«h «: ^.7^ 

gather dtetnselves together in the «na«i^r~,l^f 
•mall house. s u«r in ine spareroom of every 

sriieft ^: t^;h« '"* """ '^'^ »•" -'-^ 

areamysmue. Don't you, love ? It hadn't occurred to 
m^as he never has much colour, his dearfatTJ h"^ 
been pale with such chiselled features »^vk^ 
<**n«:terirtic of the Carr famHv «^ ' ^ *" 
William th. n ^^ »amily and came over with 

WiUiam the Conqueror and settled thera A vJv 
oW family, and always such beautifullySTaped haS 
My boy is wonderfully like his d«., f=f k^ , 

cau«,^ anyone to look paler than in scarleJ" ^ 

"I know that Gabriel is never rosy but I .« . 

frhTs^sJn""? '«"7«» «k« the stones which he^S 
prevailed, though I cannot help thinkine that a 

Th^t '::Jt'hjm "^""i "«-^S in* 

r~«n^i ''*".'™- ** '» «> difficult sometimes to 
•«onale one's duty with what is best for one's h«dth 

s^ « h?s; tfve;"'?^^'*''"^ " ""^ ^"^ 

««m at Home, and yet so hard to choose between lowing 



iM 



Sn fltaUcctfon 



one's hndwiid akme In India or one's children alMW fa 
England. And I never think that female relations— 
however kind— are quite the same as one's own mother ; 
thoui^ I am sure, dearest. I have always tried to do my 
duty by you." 

To live with Mrs. Carr, and to listen to all she said 
would have made life impossible Janet never 
attempted or pretended to do it 

" I am sure that he is working much too hard, Aunt 
Eveline." 

Mrs. CatT was the type of women who always insisted 
on being called Aunt by all young persons not related 
to her by the ties of kinship. 

« Do you think so, dearest ? StiU, after all, youth Is 
the time for work, before the n^ht cometh when no 
man can work, or even take a Canonry or a rural 
parish. I am always hoping that in the future my 
Gabriel will be given a Canoniy by some of his 
influential friends, and a sweet house in some secluded 
close, if not a rural parish with a good stipend and a 
substantial Easter oflTering, and one sermon a week 
with the curate preaching the other, and that not 
always a new ooe." 

"It worried me his taking that suburban place," 
continued the imperturbable Janet "It meant so 
much struggling and working it up, and he was com- 
pletely worn out already by his work in the slums. I 
was always against S. Etheldreda's, as you know." 

"Still, darling, when a distinct call comes it seems 
hardly right to disr^ard it since as our day is so shall 
our strength be, even in a town parish without a curate 
and no endowment to speak ot We must have iaith 
according to our needs." 

"And rich people must have charity according to 



9«net fUXb ,73 

Aefr means," retorted Janet, "or else how can the 
work of the Church be carried on ? I always think 
that the clergy of the Church of England are horribly 
underpaid. Nonconformists would scorn to be as stingy 
with their ministers as we are with ours." 

"Yes, dearest, I have heard that said by quite clever 
people as a proof of disestablishment or disendowment 
or something of that kind. But to my mind, there is a 
solidity about a State Church which the world cannot 
give nor take away, even though the stipend be 
inadequate and often such large families. An Estab- 
lished Church seems to me like family prayers in a 
private household : beginning the day with an open 
acknowledgment that God is the Head of everythh» 
and regarded as such even by the most worldly and 
ambitious." ' 

"All the same, Aunt Eveline, I think that the living 
of S. Etheldreda's if too hard work and too Uttle oav 
for Gabriel" *^' 

"Well, love, since you think it. 111 send in to 
Merchcster by the carrier to-morrow, and get him a 
bottle of that tonic which did me so much good just 
after dear Gabriel was bom. I frequently take it when 
I am at all run down, and find it of the greatest benefit 
A mixture of quinine and iron for exhaustion and 
lassitude in water exactly half an hour after food." 

Mrs. Carr was the type of woman who usually relies 
upon home-made remedies for ordinary infirmities of 
the flesh ; but who, in more urgent cases, will now and 
««ain meet the emergency by a bottle of medicine from 
the chemist's. To such women the advent of the doctor 
is on a par with the Commendatory prayers. 
But the wise Janet shook her head. 
"Prevention is better than cure," she said; -and ft 



»74 



9ii Snbfectton 



ii wiser to woid bdng ill at all, tiuui to core yourself 
by taking medidne." 

" Of course, dear lovt^ I admit that a stitch in time 
saves many a bottle of doctor's stuff, and is less 
upsetting to the digestion, many people not being 
able to assimilate iron without headache and quinine 
in a liquid form. But for such people there are always 
pills, and so much more convenient if you are lunching 
or dining out" 

" All the same, I am wretched about Gabriel I am 
sure he isn't well and he isn't happy. I saw it the 
moment he entered the house:" 

It was not easy to turn Miss Field fiom any matter 
on which her attention had alighted 

" He may not be well, my darling, but I am sure he 
is happy, since happiness consists in the fulfilment of 
duty unhampered ly domestic trials; and I know no 
man who so thoroughly fulfils his duty as my Gabriel 
does, excepting his dear fatiier, who, if he had Uved, 
wouW by now have obtained his colonelcy, given the 
orditmy flow <rf promotion, which is always quicker in 
timeofwar. He is very Uke him : I see it more and 
more : being now so much the same age, though slightiy 
thinno- ; and of coarse the difference in dress between 
a soldier and a clergyman, as I've said before." 

At that moment tiie subject of the ladies' conversation 
entered the room, and the discussion as to his physical 
condition had perforce to be drt^ped. 

Gabriel stoyed on and on at his mother's, living out- 
of-doors as much as possible in the bracing Midland 
ah- : but he did not gain strength as quickly as he had 
hoped and expected Mrs. Can- naturally did not 
notice this; but no symptom of his weakness and 
w^'rf'WM w« U»t aptm Janet Her eagle «ye 



t«»ted the depression that be ftJn would hM-. a .. 
WM not far from gueaslng tiheTii« of »h ♦ V ""^ *''* 
although riie had no 1<S of 2b^^^\J'P^'°"' 
who had caused it ^ °' "" "•^ of the woman 

to7ero::^^„X'"w^"' ^.."^""'^ ^•W"' 

together ^ " «'Q' were wdking in the fields 

"I can," was the prompt reply -von »,,» i 

doing too much for »«,. . j *^ ' . ^°" ''*'* •»«» 

"•-1; r5"^»^.'- p-n -«."?' *- "" 

" That has nothing to do with It If ««.. 
rtrength than you have got^ faL^t"/'*^ """* 
spent it on God's wortw^?'* u ^^^ y®" '"^ 

down; just aTS t^l^j" * ''"P >^" fr°°> »«aWng 
got. the' fact t^tTou'SJe s "tTl^'rwr '"''« 
Pr^nt you from b^omi^J'^bKpt- "" ^'^ *""'* 

hecalled It KSling L^ ^if '? J""«^'' «« 
The pronoun which ^n^lw^'P'"" speaking. 

the dSeS tote^i^';?^^ p ''':'' »^« »» 
speak th« *r,.»i,» iTS ^ "**■ ^O' instance, «/ 

•'^oSL^ileif ^?tJ^KrT*"**'i>' «^^-»d 

'n essence thT^l tJb i?ai'3^t^^"' "^'^ 
pronoun* "oapted to fit the various 

W^^totaTifThe'^rr^r "-j" -"P-o"'- 

gS[ LT^''* "!'" h«d an atom of it to usa" 



17* 



9n SaMectfoit 



"But I have ■ometimes borrowed youn," he argued, 
" and uied that" 

" Well, it doesn't aeetn to have done much for you." 

" Perhaps there wasn't enough of it As you haw 
just so wisely remarked, my dear Janet, I could not 
spend more of an article than ' had got to spend ; and 
in the same way I could not riorrow from you more of 
an article than you had got ' . lend." 

Then Janet laughed too^ for she possessed that most 
excellent of all gifts in wpman, a perfect temper. 
Nothing ever put her out or even rufRed her : and so 
she was eminently fitted for that vocation for which it 
is commonly and erroneously supposed that all women 
are equally fitted by nature— the vocation of matrimony. 
The power to become a good wife is as much a gift aa 
the power to become a good painter or a good writer or 
a good musician ; and no woman has it who is not 
endowed— either by nature or by grace — ^with a good 
temper. There fa no quality which so mars and spoils 
and destroys tiw hi^ipiiieas of married life as bad 
temper. Tme. 11 interferes with the peace of all 
domestic relations, and is not a comfort in any depart- 
ment of life ; but it is worse in a married woman than 
ia a single one, because a wife has far more power to 
make another person miserable than has a spinster— 
and there is no more successful way of doing this than 
by a frequent display of temper. Therefore let the 
vnman who has a bad temper, which she cannot or will 
niA coBtnl, make up her mind to select the cloister 
rather than the hearth as her sphere of usefulness- 
giving the word "cloister" the browlest and most 
modem interpretation possible, inclusive of the college, 
the clnbk the art-school, the hospital, die parish and the 
pditical i^f«m : for she is no mwe fit to be a wife 



9met field ,„ 

Sii^M.nJ?V ""'!*»'*"'" " to make. man 
Mppy. It is not in her to do either. 

valuable wset in „aSed Mfe^. '*~ ^'"°"'" "'°»* 
of humour and fa . ^M Lti m1 ^"^,'*"'' 

won't h» »KU *!^/ KHlay. in order that you 

-t^kIJ , *° "* P«» economy." 

might," replied Gabriel ^ * '" °""^" 

wh"J\*'ik ^'"m 'I''** 5^" ^°"''* ''<*"«'« in : It i, exactly 

.t^lc'hefh.^tVr^"'^""" ^"'•J'^" 
fault '"'" reproving him of « 

mur2u«S^Sr'^,^^.''T ^ •'o honour theei- 
murmured Gabriel, in mock admiration. 



•rs 



9n SiiMectfon 



But In ipite of his gibe* Janet calmly had her say. 
She wu by no means a great talker ; but if she meant 
to say a thing she said it, and It was generally to the 
point '• Have you ever tried to open a door which you 
thought was hard to open, and which wu really easy ; 
and nearly tumbled badcwards In ooosequence t " 

" Often and often." 

' That Is Just what you do with everything, Gabriel 
Yon put your whole heart and strength Into the doing 
of something that anybody 'else would do with very 
little effort at all : and then you fall backwards and 
hurt jrourself: and some day you'll fidl backwards so 
hard and hurt yourself so badly that you'll never get up 
again." 

" Then what do you want me to do to prevent this 
catastrophe?" Gabriel still spoke mockingly, but his 
mockery was kind. 

" Take things more easily, and consider yourself a 
little. Oh! Gabriel"— and here the hazel eyes were 
ndsed pleadingly — ^"do take care of jrourself: you see^ 
you matter so dreadfully, and It would be so t^ble If 
you became ill or anything." 

The expression in the hazel eyes was enough to 
touch any man— even a tatxi who had never regarded 
them as anything but sisteiiy eyes; and it touched 
Gabriel a good deal 

"You see, dear," he said, "I have my flock to 
consider as well as myself: you mustn't forget them." 

"But I do forget them: I forget them utterly; I 
don't care what becomes of them compared with yoa" 
Though Janet* s diction might be involved, her meaning 
was clear. " I would sacrifice the whole of S. Ethel- 
dreda's parish to save you a pain in your little linger, 
Gabriel: I would indeed. What do the souls of a 



Hnettktb ,^ 

M much u mint B«riSL - u I?''**" '• '^'*'> 
jood-lbr-nodiiai *itoj^ «» • >« of hortd, dt„. 



ntCMOcan mmiution tbt omit 

(ANSI and SC TEST CHAKT Nc. 2) 



21 lu 




^ 



y^PPUBD IN/HGE Inc 

1SU East Uoln StrMi 

RochMttr. Nm Yorii I4«09 USA 

(7tS) 4a2 - OUO - Phoio 

(710 2aa - SW9 - Fn 



CHAPTER Xn 



FABIA'S UARKIACB 

While Gabriel Carr was mdeavouring for the take 
of his health to let the grass grow under his feet in 
Mershire, Mrs. Paul Seaton was doing nothing of the 
kind in London. She had made up her mind to give 
Fabia Vipart in marriage to Charlie Gaythome; and 
she allowed herself no rest until this mission was safely 
accomplished. Over the trousseau she was simply 
inde&tigsble. She loved d -hes, other women's as well 
as her own: even in Isabts smallnesses there was 
nothing really small: and she and Fabia were drawn 
nearer to each other over this trousseau than they 
had ever been before. There is a wonderful fieemasonty 
among the women who love clothes, which the women 
who do not love clothes cannot in the least nndnstand 

Fabia had grown much more amiable since her 
engagement: success had a beneficial effect upon her, 
as it has upon so many people: and now that she was 
about to make what the world calls an excellent match, 
she received nnstintingly that praise of men which Is 
only accorded to those who do well unto themselves. 

Tru^ her relations with Charlie Gaythome were by 

no means ideal in their nature She regarded him with 

mingled feelings of contempt and gratitude— gratitude 

for what he had, and contempt for tidiat he was; and 

i8o 



'"^'0 Aurtiaoe 



iti 

of his worship ^,„ Sl'^* "" ""' *^* »^""'"'«» 

bc-^ownhimselVin^:,^^;;^^^^;-^^ "«<' 

he really was, it would ha^ll!. u ** ^ '^'^ »•»* 
better forS; bXdfdL '^'^"r ^°' '»'* """^ 
consequences of hL ow^^!* ^ fj"*** »» bear the 
nothing so severely punTsheS In tht '"'IT '^'^ ^ 
A cri^e is oftentiS tS^^^Xoft"'' """''"•• 
covered: but a blunder h«^T. °'**""" ""dw- 
the uttem,ost faSg a^/l'^r* '%"*!>"*«" «^ to 

Mt of day before 1 ^t^ZT^^ '" ** '^'^ 
pities. -"uicnce mat neither spares nor 

wi2"j;elLfS''sSeZ.'^'^r" «•- «-"»« 

Wm also wS^ mi«dl£^* '•,«»« *" feeHngs for 

.»Bo^ With him r;t t^L::ss: "':!f" "*~* 

nothing like as anon, -/ r u . °' ''"■' ^^ *« was 
«mil.r^drJ„:L„^V^^'^^' -o?W '"^ ^ '« 
less she had manv-TF^w ""^ ftults-and doubt- 

that person's 4^1 K^^**^ *»' t^""8or 
thetefWTail to aL£ ''^J- . «"«' »''« could not 
singleness of heS. even Sought ^'^^''^^ ««« 
her own undoinr ^^Z^l^^^^ *=""''"«' *<> 
the moment she dis«JS^i'"*' '°'~' "«» from 



Ill 



5n SttMectUm 



have been more inimical to their future hapfrfness 
than the humble and deferential attitude which Captain 
Gaythome adopted towards his bride-elect 

"What is going to happen to Mrs. Gaythome?" 
Paul asked of his wife in one of the few moments 
which she spared to him out of the whirl of nuptial 
preparation. 

"Happen to her? What on earth do you mean? 
Nothing is going to happen to her that I know oi: 
5^ isn't going to be married!" 

" Heaven forbid I But isn't she going (o turn out to 
make room for Fabia ? " i 

"Mrs. Gaythome turn out to make room for 
anybody? Oh, Paul, what an idea I You'll be asking 
next whether the sun isn't going to turn out to make 
room for some acetylene gas<ompany: or whether 
Londcm isn't going to turn out to make room for the 
garden-city." 

Paul smiled, but he held his ground. "I thought 
mothers-in-law always tumed out when their sons 
married : went to a Dower- House, or something of that 
kind." 

But Isabel met him with open scorn. « Dower-House 
Indeed I Think of Mrs. Gaythome in a Dower-House I 
I don't believe the Dower-House is built that would 
contain Mrs Gaythome." 

"Mrs. Gaythome is an excellent woman," began 
Paul; "but—" 

His wife interrupted him. 

" I know what you are going to say— that her only 
failing is infallibility, and I agree with you. But 
it is a common fault Wrexham has it badly, and 
•o have othera I often wonder what people like 
Wrr"Jiam and Mrs. Gaythome do to pasi 



yabia'0 dtacrfafie 



i«3 

the time while the rest of the congregation are 

«peaung the General Confe«ion, You « a bU 

indined that way yourself.- » «re a dk 

"Oh. Isabel I " Paul looked really hurt 

ills wife patted his shoulder encouiaginelv "It {, 

on^ a tendency in your case-not ^Sf vil" 

virtue at present But if you don't take care to 

make not less than one triflin'g mistake a week^d t^ 

te wrong on some unimportant question at leait every 

v?u,*^fir\"~*'^"«''y'«'°f'Jl'blebythet2 

vlZ^l^ ? ""^Fl^ ^'^ "^'""^ habiutions are 
Vaticans and places of that kind " 

"Oh, I say. thafs impossible! V are talkini? 
nonsense, my darling. Nobody co.id ^ke Es 
Gaythome better than they liked you-not even oS 
Gaythome himself If he were alive I" 

-Possibly not: Mr. Gaythome was a maa But 

h^^ of women would-Fabia included." * 

Wei -witii one notable exception-I haven't a verv 

high opinion of female intellectras you kn^w b«T^ 

JJIJt «.y I don't think so badly ^f the sTx' i"al! 

And Paul touched the tip of his wife's ear caressinelv 

-^^- h. r 'if ■ *°"*"'» '«"■' « w^t she calk 
done, he u a brave man who. even in the wwcf 

Wndnesat lays his hand upon it ^^ 

^You never do Mrs. Gaythome justicci Paul." 
By Jov^ I do, thonghl I think ^e i, the moat 



tl4 



Sn Subjection 



domineering woman that. Providence ever made— bar 
none." 

Isabel aiglied reproachfully. <• That comes of being a 
Radical I You Radicals don't really appreciate'our old 
national institutions, buch aa the Divine Right of kings, 
and the Established Church, and the Fenny Postage, and 
Mrs. Gaythome. These things are part of the Empire." 

"Are they?" Paul laughed and kissed his wife. 
"Then do respectable old Whigs such as yourself 
appreciate them?" 

" We da For my part, I feel towards Mrs. Gaythome 
exactly as I feel towards thd British Constitution, and 
the Union Jack, and the House of Hanover. They 
rouse noble and patriotic feelings in me — they make 
me proud of my country— they induce me to ' thank 
the goodness and the grace'— and heaps of things like 
that Roast -beef on Sunday has exactly the same 
efTect; and so have Handel's music and some of 
Macaulay's Essays." 

Isabel was quite right Mrs. Gaythome had not the 
slightest intention of taming out to make room for 
anybody; nor would Charlie ever have imagined such 
a thing possible in his wildest dreams. And, to tell the 
truth, Fabia did not altogether object to the present 
arrangement She did not care enough for her future 
husband for the prospect of a soHtudt d dtu* to offer 
any attractions to her: and she^entertained a very 
strong and real regard for Mrs. Gaythome. The very 
masterfulness of the elder woman fascinated her and 
held her captive, since strength of any kind appealed 
to Fabia. Aa has been remarked before, Miss VIpart 
doubtless had her faults: but she was of a staff 
which ti not bad raw material for the fasUoniog of 
daagbtera^-law; good danghtert-hflaw not being to 



fnbWB Aarrtage 



»«s 



Miy way lynonymous with good daughters or good 
wives. 

Much is written and said about mothers-in-law : litUe 
or nothing about daughters-in-law: yet the one class 
tt as important as the other, and has equally its dis- 
tinguishing characteristics. Roughly speaking, the better 
a woman is as a daughter or a wife, the less satisfactoiy 
wfll she prove as a daughter-in-law: and this in the: 
very nature of things. For the more devoted she is to 
her husband, the more will she resent and be jealous of 
any influence which in any way whatever comes between 
her and him : and the more devoted she is to her own 
people^ the less will she be in sympathy with the customs 
and traditions of another family. It is all a part of the 
great law of compensation : no woman can be a success 
in eveiy relation of life-no woman can be a failure in 
alL Therefore, when all her little worid condemns 
tiresome old Mrs. Jones because she does not properly 
appreciate that charming young Mis. Jones, who w« 
M excellent a daughter in the days when she was Miss 
Smth. let It remember that the very characteristics 
which make Mrs. Jones, junior, a help meet for young 
Jones, and a polished comer in tiie temple of the house 
of bmtb, are the very characteristics which are most 
aggravating and irritating to young Jones's mother- 
and that probably in this matter the disagreeable old 
lady has &r more to try her tiian the amiable young 
one, and should be judged accordingly. 

So it came to pass that when the season was drawing 
iJl. *^*'**" ''°°*" recklessly put on tiieir best 
clothes and their finest conversation for dinner-parties, 
•nd dU not take the trouble to go to non-R.S.VJP. 
p™ "t all—irtien Bills which would have travelled 
through Parliament at the rate of the South EMten 



tM 



Sn StiMecttoii 



earlier in the lession, now ruahed through it with the 
•peed of fidling sUrs— when the streets smelt of wood- 
pavement and cablMge-stalks, and there was neither 
excitement nor oxygen in the air— then did Charles 
Gaythome take to wife Fabia Vipart, with much show 
and ceremony, and ringing of bells : and gave her the 
right, for the first time in her life, to meet her equals 
with equality, and to be of, as well as in, the fashionable 
wcnrld : in short, he admitted her within the precincts, 
and endowed her with the freedom of the red cord For 
the which she was accordingly thankful 



CHAPTER XIU 

GABRIEL THB MAN 

The weeks passed on and still Gabriel did not gain 
strength. There was nothing definite the matter with 
him ; perhaps it would have been better for him if there 
had been, since a definite evil demands a definite cure ; 
but he had simply done too much— had overdrawn his 
account at the bank of vitality-and Nature, that most 
mercUess of creditor^ was now summonatog him 
before her county court, and sUtioning her baH'STs. 
Weakness and Weariness and Depression, in his hous2 
unul he should have paid her back to the uttermost 
fiuthmg. 

At the end of two months spent with his mother in 
the country, Gabriel returned to town to consult the 
great doctor who had taken his case in hand ; and there 
he was met with the crushing blow that he must— if he 
ever wished to regain his shattered health and strength 
—resign the living of S. Etheldreda's, and Uke a 
country parish for a term of several years. That was 
the only course open to him, the doctor said, unless he 
were bent upon suicide. 

He came back to his moth-r's well-nigh broken. 

aeurtoli it seemed as if Fortune had indeed been 

witrageous in pelting him with her slings and arrows. 

First the disappointment about FaWa; and then this 

18; 



iM 



9nSa^(ectloN 



•till severer blow about & Etheldreda'i: love and life- 
work taken from him at one fell iwoop, juat when he 
thought he was rearing the summit of success in both ; 
and for a time the burden seemed greater than he could 
bear. He had meant to do such wonderful things with 
hU work before him and Fabia by his side; he had 
intended to remove mountains and to overthrow princi- 
palities and powers— to stand in the forefront of the 
great battie between good and evil, and to go forth 
conquering and to conquer. .And suddenly he was met 
by the stem decree, "Thus far shalt thou go and no 
further"; he was bidden to stand no longer with the 
Ark in the middle of Jordan, but to court ease and 
obscurity in the backwater of a countiy parish. 

And tiie veiy fact tiiat he was out of healtij, made it 
all the harder for him patiently to endure and cheerfully 
to submit ; for a man's faith Is often very much affected 
by his physical condition. Satan understood human 
nature when he suggested that even the patient Job 
might curse God to His Face when once his flesh and 
his bone were touched. As a matter of fact, Satan 
always does understand human nature: it is Divine 
Nature That passes his comprehension ; so that when 

—as ffcquentiy happens even in this present world 

tills mortal puts on immortality, Satan's reckonings are 
upset and his premises falsified. 

So poor Gabriel went a day's journey into the wilder- 
ness of blighted hope and bitter disappointment, and laid 
him down under the juniper tree of doubt and despair, 
with the old cry, "It is enough; now take away my 
life I " And as he lay in tiie dark shadow of tiie juniper 
tre^ behold as aforetime an angel touched him . and die 
■ngel came in the form of Janet Reid. 
Now, had nninsplred humanity been writing the 



MMd tb< iBati ,8, 

fcWory of Elijah, it would have dealt with thb acene 
IntheatoryveordllTerently. Itwaaaitrikingnioiiient: 
a moment when spirits were finely touched to fine issues. 

«S".k!. !J * "*~ "'*'' '^'y ***> ''«*«A^ /«««»« / 
«nd they the wiy choicest of their Irind. Firs* the 

m*!^^! JlJ^** ^"^ P'"*^*" ^'^^ P''°"P^ P«rt lii th. 
mo. splendid dnua. ever written-who had stood upon 
thesummit of Catmel and ealJsd down fi» from Heaven 
to confound hi. enemies; and who had then madfS 
very clouds his chariots and refresh.-d ihe p«ch«?tut J 
with abundance of rain. Did ever con^HSoTiS 
from a more magnificent victory than this? Did ever 
mere man before or since constrain clouds and fire and 
stormy winds to the fulfilUng of his word. fhl. wa. 

iSfnJ^TC?'"*^'''™™^ TheMcondwa.nole« 
wonderful, being one of thoM mysterious being, who 
«cel in strength-<«e of those k». of God who ri>outed 
for J9y wh« the foundation«i of the earth were LJd. 
^M^?f ;frt/°** J'««^v.-the morning «S 
And what did thl. angelic mewenger «y to the 
mighty conqueror who vras for the moment overthrown ? 
Did he strengthen him with the recital of part triumph.. 

LS'SbS '^" ***** * '*"'""°^ *»' '^ V^ 

Listrjnl -And behold a. angel touched him and 
«ald unto him. Arise, and eat" "«• ana 

No war-songs or battle<ries or heroic* Nothing but 
such ordfaaiy. everyday, homely comfort as would be 
given to a weeping child 

And there was more than mere comfort: there was 

SiY ^T^'J:^"^^'' '^^^ came again the second 
time and touched him and said, Ari* and eat ; becauK 
the journey is too great for thee." 
Dear, humai^ comomiphice. comfortaWe words : nch 



!i 



I. i 



ill 



19* 9n SttMecHon 

wordi at we should aU like to hear ia onr dejected 
noments. when the road is too stony for us and we fall 
by the way like tired children : such words as are 
spoken to one whom his mother comforteth I 

Thus Gabriel found consolation in the loving sympathy 
and cheerful companionship of Janet She talked no 
herdcs to him : she did not attempt to prove by uga- 
ment that all things are for the best In this best of all 
possible worlds : she first looked after his bodily com- 
forts, and then shared with him the sorrow of his heart 
Her whole walk snd conversation vere but an amplifica- 
tion of the words, " Arise and eat ; because the journey 
is too great for thee." 

There are many women in this world who would fun 
give consolation in sorrow to the men whoa, they love ; 
but they do not know the way. They argue and 
encourage and cheer and exhort, and yet it is all in 
vaia Such women would do well to learn a lesson firom 

the angel of Elijah. - .. . , 

Gradually Janet became more than an angel to Gabriel 
—more than one of those heavenly visitants who neither 
many nor are given in marriage : she began to occupy 
the niche In his heart which the defalcation of Fabia 
had left vacant It is a true saying that the affections of 
many men are caL'ght on the rebound ; and these, as a 
rule, ate what are commonly known as " marrjring met.." 
The man who is described by his friends as « not a 
* marrying man," Is rarely, if ever, enslaved in this way : 
his affections, when once wounded and repulsed, are 
even more impregnable than they were before. 

There are two kinds of bachelors in this world : the 
men In the walls and structure of whose hearta are 
empty niches all ready for the image of the unknown 
goddess ; just as in some houses there are book-shdves 



make ,00m rjer ^ '""""" "™*^ *« 

C»rr belo iged to the former '«« • ft«m hi. iw»„fc.^ 

fellen in love wIaS. h/ .^ " ^' ""* "°» «"* 
nuien in love with Janrrt: bat the doors of hia h^rT 

•Iter ™tt„ h^ trt iCTttTS-VS. ™^ 

irjn^ t^^T^ *""" ^^^'yowke— patient iDinstM. 

after the fi«tXe? A,!7„/^^^''°^ "*" '^"^'^ 
forthdrmBrfr*^ J ""* "" °"'' '•«» "«e richer 
•or UJ?ir mod?? And qm we doubt that these blew^ 



19* 9n Sntfectfon 

ffloskiaat shall take one day a leading part in tliat 
clionis whicli siiall stand on the shores of the sea of 
glass striking the harps of God ? 

Janet was aware that she was not Gabriel's first love: 
during the sunny aflernoons of that long summer 
holiday he had confided in her the whole story of his 
infatuation for Fabia, and the disappointment that it 
had brought him : and she was content that it should 
be so. He was so utterly fipt with her that she never 
even asked what place she took with regard to him. It 
was enough for her to love : she did not trouble about 
any return. 

There is always something rather small about the 
jealous woman— the woman who refuses to marry a 
widower, or who begs her husband to promise that he 
will never marry again should anything happen to her. 
Something is lacking in the quality of her love : at the 
bottom of her heart she loves herself more than she 
loves him. Were her love perfect, she would want him 
to be happy even at the cost of his memory of her: she 
would be content to be forgotten if only he could be 
comforted. The maternal element in her love would 
help her to this: and the wife who has no maternal 
element in her love for her husband, falls considerably 
short of the mark of her high calling. 

But Fate was not without its irony for poor Gabriel, 
even in the compensations of his present lot It was 
hard that he should at last have ftllen in love with 
Janet just when the Gat had gone forth that he had no 
home to offer to her. Had he only learnt her true 
value any time during the past half-dozen years, he 
could have married her at once: and in all human 
probability his health, in that case, would never have 
broken down at all, for Janet was just the sort of wife 



««6tfel tbe Aan ,„ 

to look after a man well, and to gee tha* i.- 
chenshed and comforted as w*ll - •. ^' *" 
obeyed. But I.I,. ™- . ' " honoured and 

didtte righ?ti TZ *"°"'". «*^ "»»• G'briei 
punished as a«»1I *^?^*"'S««e= and was sorely 

him in his dL S2tl^:. So whie Janet soothed 
and his arrest^ S^k^ ""^^ ^" "'«'>*«' '«>ve 
out of the fryS-pL7^„.l "Tf ^^^^ ''^'^ him 
into the fi,. ^7 '^ transitoiy infatuation for Fabia 

Ts « dS:,the"^:s"fta?"f °" *" "-^'--d 

than the fi^T **'° ''^ P°°' Gabriel worse 

boSlorL"?^\toir ^r^.*°'''^ '^^^ "- 
neither home n" \-ntre ,0 tS;. " "7 ^^at >>« ^^^d 

not a clever woman in the aLwrd's^l{fr".'J~*^°"«'» 
was quite clever enough to 2 whlf h ^ *•** *°"*- 
and to be thankful aSoSinl^, I w^, T" *° P^"' 
of her that she did not wLte £ Jl "=»»aracteristic 
in .^mting that GabS? L' ^0? e^'t t .^ T' 
sooner: she returned thanks that LJT *"" 
postponed this awakening until eJenV; "!! 
th^mere knowledge of ^it madeTelo^r/n t^ 

it '^p^^s/sSrc^zzLl^^^r''''''''' ^•- 

and his mother and JanS^we« sEl' T^'^^^i" ^^ 
the little Midland cottee? « *^ * ** ^'^*'" °f 
holiday further- Mdh^!' ^^ "^"^t «tend my 

appoi/todpgiSiLrr^^ TutTsSr ^" 
it— oh, I shall miss it I " "*'' "«» 



194 



9n Snbjectfon 



always either upon Mount Cannel or lying down under 
the juniper tree. 

" As you say, dearest," replied Mrs. Carr, " it seems 
time that something definite should be done, as no 
bcum tenens can stay permanently anywhere because of 
his own work at home, and being a stranger, as it 
were, and therefore the course of teaching more 
disjointed than in the case of the real incumbent, 
besides his not having the threads of all the parishioners 
in his hands, und so less able to administer advice and 
counsel." i 

". It is hard to give it all up," Gabriel groaned ; "and 
just when I was getting some hold upon the hearts of 
the people I " 

" Never mind," said Janet, in soothing tones ; " it will 
all come right" 

" But I must mind : I cannot help minding : it is my 
business to mind." 

Janet shook her head. " No, it isn't : it is your 
business to get strong and well as quickly as you can, 
and God's business to look after S. Etheldreda's." 

"Yes, lov^ yes; of course it is; how clearly dear 
Janet always puts things I You must have faith, my 
Gabriel, more faith. Think of the grain of mustard- 
seed that the woman hid in three measures of meal till 
it leavened the whole lump. It is faith of that kind 
that you need, dear child, and in fact all of us." 

Mrs. Carr was apt to confuse her parables : but she 
held fast to the truths which they set forth. 

" It is so easy to have faith for other people, and so 
hard to have it for oneself," sighed Gabriel 

" But the fact that a duty is difficult does not make 
ft any the less imperative." 

" That is so, dearest Janet," assented Mrs. Carr ; " if 



•«Wel tbe Ant ,„ 

» « of a burdei S *''^'l «'*»y« "nakes eventing 
«.d body." "^ *°'^*= "'^ «"»P'«te «»t of mind 

-.y t?kT<l^£"l~,''?f>'~""«'«-I leave 

ti^ofrSa Js"EtSdS^r " ^^"*' *° «>« 
trusted with *h- Etheldreda's,but not quite to be 

™> "aonei, I nj ashamed of vou I " 
He« h., mother fle. to Gabriel's nSl 

n>y o.^^^e^irbtVat""'" '''°'^^'"' »° '^ of 
that Gab.;; Is gu'lS of '^^^/r.'*'" *° '"'''»'*'• 
which anything furth!., r u-** *°'^"^' *»» Maker, 
••■nagina ButSnl^^o' t"? J^.^o-g^ts I cannot 
of aparish h Z^ZT^t^^lV"^' *^» ^"'ge 
the Creator than Ttte^d^^ t^ , "^'. "" *''» """''» "^ 
which i, reaUy a laymat'?d*?„ """* ' P"^"** '"««»«. 
business." *^ " ' '^"*>'' °' ^^ » "ere man of 

smSTSsremtk^ei"^',.'*' *=°"'*' -* '-'-' » 

hazel eyes tSt^ySl" Tt'" '* T J*"^'"' 
indicative of Mra. CanTi^v '^' '* '^ «> thoroughly 
Whom she T^rfed^ /"'i"*^*; ^r*^' '»«' Maker, 
not to be tiSbS uTh !^ °' '^'''''"^ Arthbishop 
Church. *"* '^»'" unconnected with the 

layman's duty to d.«S*^ """^ y**" *=*" » "ere 



i9t 



3n Sublectfon 






■ :i 



" My dear Gabriel, I have always said grace before 
meat and always shall : it is no use trying to dissuade 
me from it It was my custom in my cradle as it will 
be my custom upon my death-bed, taught me by my 
dear mother; and a meal upon which no blessing is 
asked always terrifies me for fear of undigested food 
or a fish-bone in the throat, if not ptomaine poisoning 
and typhoid from muk. I never should expect to 
recover from a meal upon which no blessing had been 
asked, not even if the fish were boned and there 
was only semolina pudding! And by what right, I 
should like to know? Except the Lord build the 
house, men sow and reap in vain." 

Gabriel suppressed a laugh, as he wondered what his 
mother would do if she were asked to parse one of her 
own sentences. 

" It is all right, mother; you misunderstood me. I 
am the last person to object to your saying grace 
before meat" 

But Mrs. Carr was a past mistress in the art of mis- 
understanding people. Nothing was too plain or too 
simple for her to misunderstand. She even amazed her 
own son sometimes by her powers of misapprehension. 

" Then why did you say so, dear love, and cause me 
so much pain? Both you and Janet are so fond of 
saying things and then saying that you didn't say them, 
which makes it so confusing for the other persou, with 
the best intentions in the world. If you don't object to 
my saying grace, why did you say you did ? And if 
dear Janet doesn't think you irreverent why does she 
say you are ?— everybody being judged by their words, 
or else how could you know them at all ? " 

" What I want to know is what will become of me 
nftix I have resigned the living of S. Etheldreda's ? " 



Oalwfei tbe Aan >,, 

Gabriel's passing amusement was over, and he was 
down in the depths again. 

"Something is sure to turn up," the cheerful Janet 
hastened to assure him. " I feel certain that God will 
look after you, even though it be but secular work to 
do sa 

Janet could not resist making fun of Mrs. Carr 

sometimes, though to do her jusUce she struggled 
manfully against the temptatioa 

« What you need, my dear boy, is more faith and hope 
and a country parish, though not too scattered in case of 
bad weather, and the Squire at your back should the funds 
run short and no private "leans." 

"Buthowamltoget a country parish, mother? It 
IS none so easy. And especially as I need one with an 
Income sufficient to keep me from starvation, having— 
as you point out— no private means." 

" True, love, they do not grow on every bush like sand 
on the seashore as you say ; but there must be plenty 
somewhere, or else why aren't all the clergy in the 
workhouse ? Though, as Janet is always saying, it is no 
credit to the Church of England that they are not, being 
so miserably underpaid and the labourer always worthy 
of b i hire. Certainly, the Nonconformists set us a good 
example there, though sometimes not Catholic in 
doctrine ; and of course you would find it a littie 
dull after the constant toil and turmoil of a London 
pansh, which would make it so much more soothing 
and restful. I often wish that my small means were 
sufficient to do more than just keep Janet and myself- 
but It IS often difficult for us as it is to make both ends 
meet, even pinching ourselves at every turn, and only 
one joint of meat a week." 
" It is supper-Ume," said Janet, rising and folding up 



■9« 



9n SoMectfoii 



her work ; " and I propoM that we go In and enjoy it, 
and don't take thought for the morrow any more 
to-night There's steak-and-kidney pie and a junket, 
both of which I made myself because I knew that they 
were two of Gabriel's iavourite dishes ; and it is no good 
making them disagree with us all before we eat them, 
through worrying over what can't be twlped." 

" Thank you, Janet" 

Gabriel was touched. He was one of the men — and 
their name is L^on — who love to be petted. 

"And for my part," added Janet, as they strolled 
towards the house, " I have perfect confidence that God 
will find a way for us out of this difficulty, and prove 
Himself a very present help in the present trouble. 
Why, you always preach so beautifully aliont faith. 
Gabriel!" 

" I know I do ; but it is so much easier to preach tlum 
to practisa" 

" It isn't easy to do either on an empty stomach," said 
the practical Janet ; " so let us have supper at once I " 



CHAPTER XIV 

THE LIVING OF GAYTHORNB 

Therb wu woe and lamentation in the parish of 
Gaythorne over the death of the Rector, who had held 
the incumbency for the last five-and-thirty years. As 

Mrs Gaythorne had no anxiety as to his condition 

K-^\ "i'".'* ****'' ''"* ^ "««^ a friendship 
which had lasted through the whole of her life aa 
matron and widow, and she shrank from the idea of 

as Mr. Cattley had done. True, the latter had suffered 

from occasional lapses in obedience. There was one 

never-to-be-forgotten occasion when he introduced the 

custom of cariying out the PsalmUf s original intention 

and singing the songs of degrees, instead of reading 

them aloud alternately with the congregation: which 

danng innovation so upset Mrs. Gaythorne that for 

some time she absented herself from her Parish Church 

and attended a Wesleyan Chapel in the neighbourhood. 

But even here the poor lady could not long find rest 

for her soul; for, when tiie season for it came round, 

the Wesleyans tiiought it meet and right to offer a 

pubhc tiumksgiving to God for the joy of harvest, and 

they decorated tiieir Chapel on this occasion witii com 

and flower* This was too much for Mrs. Gaytiiorne. 

'99 



•M 9n SnMectlon 

She Mcated Rltualiam in eveiy dahlia, Popery in evety 
ear of com ; and when she espied upon the front of the 
pulpit the Sign of her salvation wrought in white 
chrysanthemums, to bring before the faithful the 
Symbol of their faith, she shook the dust of the place 
off her feet for ever, and left the Chapel to re-enter it 
no more. But she did not go so far as to withdraw her 
subscription to the Wesleyan Missionary Society in 
consequence: in which, perhaps, she was somewhat 
Inconsistent ; since the object of all missionary societies 
Is to take their part in fulfilling the Divine Command 
to preach to every creature that Cmss which was to the 
Jew a stumbling-block, and to the Greek foolishness, 
and to Mrs. Gaythome the sign-manual of Rome. But 
her practices were ever superior to her precepts ; and 
she always atoned, by the kindliness of her conduct, for 
the sternness of her creed. 

So she returned into the fold of her own parish, and 
gradually forgave Mr. Cattley for his unseemly attempt 
to carry out the intentions of the original authors in his 
presentment of the Psalms ; but she continued to read 
these same spiritual songs in a loud voice while the rest 
of the congregation were singing them. 

Once again was Mr. Cattley convicted of backsliding 
by the introduction of the intoning of those responses 
which fall to the people and not to the priest Mrs. 
Gaythome did not leave the Church again ; but she 
entered her protest by still repeating the responses in 
as conversational a tone as she could command, and 
beginning them full two seconds before anybody 
else. 

The living of Gaythome was a very good one, as 
livings go nowadays; five hundred a year and an 
excellent rectory; and the income was regular and 



«be %Mno Of (MvtDotne 



MI 

A St?,^, rj^-t •^'•*'°" """-^ -"S 

death. • * '^^ *'">'» "*" the oW Rectort 

«.^t J: wf mlS^" '•P''«' ^"-'-^ Oy which he 
^M thought so : and I want you to give It to Gabriel 

polgny'""" ^"'^ ^' Charlie', dJ,t«s, wa, 
♦(,.♦.' '^ " "** "** saying 'Oh. FaWal' in 

wh^tiTSLrij-frr '^'^ '°-'"d you 

o„t_., ^ ''"'»" a«. and I expect you to carry them 
" But, Fabia— " 

m^InXdT^Sir'Lrth'alr- .^'^ ''^" =- 

him onltr" ' "■ ^'"'' ^"^ "-" ^"^'^l to touch 
Rector he^ ^'^ Churchman being made 

'•i SS^b^I?" '*''' *" "''"^ '^-^ « yo"' gift-" 






tM 9ii Sn»f ectfon 

" Oh I Fabia, I really couldn't go against my mother 
in a thing like this. She minda lo awfully about 
Churches and services and things of that kind, that I 
riiould feel a regular brute if I didnt pan it all out to 
rait her." 

Fabia's lip curled : her husband's fear of his mother 
never failed ti. rouse her contempt 

" Then you do not mind gdng against your wife's 
wishes?" 

" Yes, I do, darling ; I mind most awfully. But can't 
you understand that religion is the mater's particular 
hobby, while it isn't yours^ I mean you don't really 
care about High Church or Low Church and all that sort 
of business, while it is just meat and drink to mother. 
I believe it would kill her to have a regular High 
Churchman planted down under her very nose: she 
couldn't stand it at her age." 

" That is simply absurd. She would soon get used 
to it" 

" Not she I I know my mother. You can't remem- 
ber what an awful shindy she made when old Cattley 
took to bawling out the Psalms all together, instead of 
making them into a sort Of ride-and-tle business, turn 
and turn about, as they used to be. But I can ; and I 
shall never forget it By Jove, it r^ularly knocked her 
to (Heces I " 

Fabia still occupied the seat of the scornful. "I 
thought the Psalms were meant to be sung: songs 
usually are." 

"Not a bit of it! Why^ nobody ever thought of 
singing them at Gaythome Church till old Cattley got 
a ridiculous idea into his head that it would be an 
improvement, or some idiotic notion of tliat Icind. 
And it upset the mater most dreadfully. She forgave 



Vbe %Mno Of tfavtbonie 



••J 

irtu B * **■? *'•*'»« nose was eenerallw <ri..^ 

to the Prayer-book in his fiunily pew " ^'""^ «'"«' 

for but to be sung ? " *" '"y"'" "»«'• 

Hymn-book are." 'rayer-Dook and the 

"Well, then, you hold that the Bible and th^ 

you? retorted FaWa, who never could te^st the 



pi 



m 



•^ 911 SttMecttoii 

temputlon to wave a red ng when the mw one lying 
about 

"Good gradouf, no; what an ideal I'm glad the 
mater didn't hear you ny that Why, nothing would 
induce her to read what she calls her daily-portion out 
of the Prayer-book Psalnu; ihe wouldn't do it for 
anything She always reads them out of the regular 

"That is enough about the Psalms," said Fabia, in a 
bored tone of voice. " What I want to know is, are you 
going to oblige me about the living of Gaythome, or are 
you not t In short, are you going to offend me or your 
mother?" ' ' 

Charlie looked — u indeed he felt — absolutely 
wretched. He hated to deny Ub beautiful wife any- 
thing that she desbed; but the alternative was by no 
means an alluring one He could have faced a charge 
of cavahy without turning a hair; but when it came to 
facing his mother it was a different thing, and the flesh 
was weak. So he feebly temporised. 

"I dont believe mother would ever stand Gut's 
goings-on— his flowers and vestments and early services 
and things of that kind." 

"But she is very fond of him," said Fabia, stooping 
to argue with her trembling lord and master. 

"Oh I thafs quite a different thing. She can't help 
liking him as a man; nobody could; he is such a 
pleasant chap that nobody would ever take hit: for a 
clergyman," replied Charlie, with unconscious humour; 
"but it's as a parson that he roughs her up." 

" Of course you are master in your own house and so 
must do as you think fit," said Fabia, with a satirical 
smile. "I have told you my wishes and there is no 
more to be said. But I shoukl bave imagined that you 



TOe I4VIII0 of 0<ttbonw 



on that JoS'^J,"°"^''r [?' ^'"' »''«'«'» «<> doubt 
•PHXJ fcfC .„"?"? Z'S l^y ■■ ' he's . r..,H„; 
to ehucic ^hhglH^J^ °" *''" to have 

«j^fi«d to^.irjd''s,?rr ir'r "' »'-- 

cllngS^^iS^^LiyteSdt "tr- "'' 
not deign to vouchiafe Zn«»h *^ ^ ™ •*"■• ^hc did 

h".b«,d. wh^tSy :2 J::^"',^:? f-«c.lcitr.„t 

mentofFabia. Ifhehi^ Tft, /^ *" ^' manage. 
that he wouW not riJ^f"! ?'* ^*.''°''" *"«» »»'d 
did not choose to d?l..L^*,i**u^'" '^"'* •>« 
W. decisiorSh !^1^ '^J'''* ""^^ lubmittcd to 

with hen : but whenT^foiiTl ''* '^"' "°* "''"^'de 

that hi. motirdTd trs IhTz ""' "^r 

prestige as a husband .«ji ^ . , *'^'' "^ !»*« 
eyes 'a wSet^nt^lJet'lJh'l Its '- 'l'^^^'' 
by quototions from any woman L» r*** Mthority 

mother: for wivesd«o'-T "°* ^^ ^"^ ^ own 
--ndat heaitoJrthrd^„!/T'*"","°"' 80''«'«nent. 

them. "^ e^en « mother-m-law-to «•> over 

»"ew that thfhdv'f ™ ♦u^" ^''"'" ''^*'- She 
Me ladys sympathies were considerably 



I 



te< 



9n SnMectfon 



broader than her vlt ivs ; so she retailed to Mrs. (hyAomt 
the exhaustive account of Gabriel's afflictions, which she 
had received by letter from Isabel Seaton ; and left the 
seed thus sown to bear fruit accordingly. 

Charlie's mother, though an excellent woman and a 
consistent Christian, was most delightfully human : and 
consequently she was so much pleased with Gabriel for 
having ruined his health (as she believed) by his High- 
Church practices, thereby proving that she was righteous 
in her judgments and justified in her sayings, that she 
completely forgave the sinner in contemplating the 
satisfactory results of the sita. So after hearing several 
times the full account of poor Gabriel's overthrow, as 
written by Isabel and illustrated by Fabia, she went to 
spend a day with her old friend, Eveline Carr, in order 
so see for herself how the land lay. 

Mrs. Carr and Mrs. Gaythome were friends of long 
standing, and were warmly attached to each other — all 
the n.ore warmly because they did not understand one 
another in the very least Many sincere and constant 
friendships are thus founded on a basis of profound and 
mutual misunderstanding. We are all of us prone to 
esteem certain people for qualities which they do not— 
and never have pretended to— possess; but we, in the 
vain imagination of our hearts, have endowed them with 
these qualities, and feel affection for them accordingly. 
Mrs. Gaythome loved Mrs. Carr for being a mystic of 
deep and clear spiritual perceptions, with an intuitive 
conception of the mysteries of Evangelical dogma: 
while Mrs. Carr reverenced Mrs. Gaythome as a broad- 
minded and experienced woman of the world, equally 
conversant with the wisdom of God and the foolishness 
of maa 

"This is an unfortunate business, Gabriel, that I 



TOe Xfvftid or oastbente 



107 

mT/ ^^"Ik^'''^'^^***"" ""^"t y°"' health," began 
Mrs. Gaythorne, when the preliminary greetingslSe 
over and the party had seated themsel ve?^ X ^ 
Mrs. Gaythorne-s lunch and the Carrs' dinnen « A VS 
unfortunate business I" • n very 

Some people would have left the discussion of un- 
pleasant subjects until the meal was over ; but ^hat^^ 
not Mrs. Gaythorne's way. What she h;d to Sy.^ 
«"d. regardless of any other consideration whatsSver 

f„H 7^ A *°"1?" d^tinguished by singleness of purpos^ 
and freedom of utterance. " F"pose 

.„Sf-*'f ' ''^^'^- " " •" ereat trouble and a bitter dis- 
appointment to me to have to give up S. EtheldredaV 
I can assure you of that. Mrs. Gaytho.^c." 

Then why talk about it?" interrupted Janet "1 

Mrs. Gaythorne turned upon her a look of reproach. 

about It, Janet Field, so it must be talked about, meal! 
^ K '.r ™«'"-t'™«- I "nnot consider the meat that 
SStiot^f" ' •'^^^ ^^^--^''^ -' under X 
But Janet had her retort ready. "It was GabrW. 
body that I was thinking about. Mrs. Ga^S Ind 

Jlstc?" K-V-". " '" '^ '" *«"« condS'tSan 
a«e„^a" '* " *^' '*"*"" *''''* *'^°"''» <=»»™ « "" 

in Z'i'''T^^*" ■*•" '^'"'^ **■■* C»"' '■'=«>'"& electricity . 
m the air and being intent on peace ; " a b«ly wiS 

^m51^ '."'"']' *' '^''"* ' *='»^e fo' ™y boy just noV 
complete rest and absence from all w^rry ^4 S5 






•oS 



9n Snbfection 



I' 



thing prescribed : though I admit that when one scents 
the soiT.id of danger one should profit by the warning, 
and husband the lost strength until it has regained its 
accustomed tone and vigour." 

" I am not surprised," replied Mrs. Gaythome, saying 
what she had come to say. " What could any man 
expect from daily services and all the other performances 
at S. Etheldreda's but a complete breakdown in his 
health ? I knew it would come to this from the very 
beginning : and it has." 

The good lady conveyed the impression that, if 
it had not, she would have been as much dis- 
apppointed as was the Prophet Jonah at the 
sparing of Nineveh. 

Gabriel was distinctly amused : Mrs. Gaythome never 
made him angry. "I did the little I could, and am 
thankful that my health allowed me to do as much 
as I did ; but I grieve sorely that it prevents me from 
doing more." 

"There is nothing to grieve over in that, Gabriel 
Carr : be thankful that you are prevented from doing 
any more mischief in that benighted parish, instead of 
fretting that you are prevented from doing any more 
good." 

" I will gladly raise that 7> Beum, Mrs. Gaythome," 
replied the persecuted Vicar, stifling a laugh ; " but all 
the same, I did my best" 

"According to your lights," added Mrs. Gaythome, 
amending his sentence. 

"Certainly: I accept the emendatioa But no one 
can act save according to his lights: you cannot 
yourself, Mrs. Gaythome." 

"But I take care to see that my lights are the right 
lights ■. that makes all the difference." 



OTe mmg of Oastbonte 



ao9 

•' J£t">?i^''!? ** ''"' ""^ '" »"~'' t''^" '" anger. 
What an absurd question. Janet Field! How do I 
know that the sun is shining above our heads?" 

Mr, rV r^ .''"."' "° ''^''« °' •'e'ow '•" space.*' 
Mrs. Gaythorne shook her head reproachfully. "Janet 
Field. I perc, ,e you are becoming a free-thinker If 
not an atheist: and that is quite a! bad. if not wo^e 
S^ple £%'''"?•. ' '"' ""' appr'ove"of'S 
s^iifatioS ''"' ""^ '"■* ^' ^'^ «-^-' 
But Janet held her ground. "It is not modem at 
a^l: It .s a notion that dates from the days o^De 
Qumcey. not to say from the foundation of L world 
Dont you remember that magnificent passage of hfa 

irJ" '^f *"* '""*'"^ t^constelSS ./bot 
was below, below was above: depth was swallowed up 
m height insurmountable, height was swallowed up in 
e^wS^r'^"'''' "--ofthefinestpan^™^" 

of"slmetWn?^''rr °f °«' Q"'"*:*/' h« took too much 
Jn^T^ t ^ '^'^* *•'** '■' *»«= «»"t I know he 
«^..uT ^" * ^"'at deal better without it" 

nn ,„^K fi,'^"' -l*"^*' "''* P"^«^ tl^at 'here are really 
no such thmgs as height and depth in space." 

Nothing of the kind." replied the Indomitable. 
be"w«rS„ "* 'l^mr''*'''' "°* ''''°'^''"' '^'ff-"" 

anything frequently confuse the twa" 

reM^f^'h^"' '«'"'"*' ^*''"''' •■" "PP'*"«= "'" this 
respect the meeting is epfrcly with you." 

9 



•«<» Jr. anbieetfoit 

"And besides," Mrs. Gaythorne continued triumph- 
antly, "if there is not an above or a below, there 
cannot be a Heaven or Hell : and if that is so, what 
is to become of us all, I should like to know?" 

Gabriel laughed outright Mrs. Gaythorne's theology 
never failed to afford him the keenest pleasure. 

Here the hostess thought it time to interfere, as she 
was afraid that the young people were not showing 
proper respect to their guest 

"Of course, dear Mrs. Gaythorne, as you say, we 
couldn't possibly do without Heaven and Hell, both 
as a punishment and an inducement, modern theology 
being so lax in matters , of doctrine, although very 
charitable in all good works; and though we are 
expressly told that the spirit matters quite as much 
as the letter, yet we must pay attention to the articles 
of our faith, or ftlse where should we be 7 " 

"I would rather not express an opinion," answered 
Mrs. Gaythorne. "All I can say is that I feel sure De 
Quincey knows the difference well enough by now, and 
wishes that he had not taken quite so much of that 
stuff that made him confuse the two." 

Gabriel and Janet were rocking themselves to 
and fro in a silent ecstasy of mirth ; but their levity 
fortunately was hid from Mrs, Gaytho: le, who calmly 
continued : 

" And now that my prognostications have been fulfilled, 
and you have mined your health by your forms and 
ceremonies, I want to know what you are going to do 
for a living, Gabriel Carr ? " 

"That Is just what I want to know myself, Mrs. 
Gaythorne. I have no private means at all, and my 
mother has only just enough to keep herself and Janet : 
«Q that now I have been compelled to resign the living 



Vbt %Mno ot 0«vtborne 



■II 

ttt^STou?.''''' ^"^ ""■"' "'^^'"-"^ »-'- - but 

^Jr^"! "PP™*"" of the name of that Church." said 
Mv. Gaythome. « I never approve of any salms tSlI 

in ex«of * ''"''^" ^'^ ^''"'^''■" -^^-^^^ f-t 
" I have nothing to do with that All I say is that I 
do not approve of fancy saints." ^ 

fiUrrks'^; tM rntTp.isi irti^- 

aTdf Sr" ^■'•^ "'•°-^' w«ct haTtfsonefhS 
example, though of course to be adapted to modem 
needs manners and customs being so different now t™ 
whai they were then, and arrows and gridirons heina 
used for such different purposes or not at^lL" ^'"^ 
I should like a few words alone with Gabriel " said 
Mrs. Gaythorne, when lunch was over 
It was not her custom to beat about the bush and 

womfn' t M '■";'"'"' ''' '* •■" '•>« custom of some 
tTSers'toferher"^^' ^"' ^^""^^ -'-'• ^^' '^^' ^he^ 

this^nL?'''"'''"*''' '''^" ^S**"' "yo" •>»-« brought 

tt"re tl% T. ^°"u''- ^y y°" °^" fooUshnJs: 
there is no doubt on that score; but what is done is 
done and .t .s no good harping on it any further. The 
th.ng^ we have to consider is what is to be done 

"Precisely. Mrs. Gaythorne: that is what I have 



tit 



SnSiAjectfen 



been considering for several weeks, and I am as far 
from any conclusion as I was when I began." 

" Then I am not I have decided to order my son 
Charles to confer upon you the living of Gaythome." 

Gabriel was dumbfoundered. He understood perhaps 
better than anyone what it must have cost Mrs. 
Gaythome to make this decision; and he felt almost 
overpowered by the m^^itude of her sacrifice. 

" But, dear Mrs. Gaythome, consider what you are 
doing." 

"I have considered. I am not one to act without 
due consideration." 

"I am not of your way of thinking upon many 
subjects." 

" No one knows that better than I da" 

" And though I would do anything in my power to 
please you, dear Mrs. Gaythome, I could not put aside 
my own convictions for you or for anybody. I mean 
that if I were appointed to the living of Gaythome; I 
should feel it my duty to conduct the worship of God 
as I believe He has ordained, and not as I think my 
parishioners desire. In some things a minister of religion 
is the servant of all ; but in others he owes no allegiance 
to any but the Master Himself, and to Him alone he is 
responsible ; and I believe that the form in which he 
worships the Master is one of these latter things. I 
want you fully to understand this before you urge 
your son to appoint me Rector of Gaythome." 

" I do fully understand it I know you well enough 
to be aware that you are as obstinate as possible where 
your conscience is concerned ; as obstinate as I am 
myself: and I respect you for it" 

Gabriel could hardly forbear smiling. " And yet you 
wish me to become Rector of Gaythome ? " 



ttbe X(9iit0 Of OastDorne ..j 

„/ u^u' ?'?<*"8h I know that you vdU do many thinn 

?^^ ^>:°»!«Jf fo'riBhteousnesa Butas I grow older 
I am beginning to see that the spirit is of vastiy more 
^portance than the letter; .nd'that it is possibS to 
serve God in various ways, though I never shall believe 
that one way is qu.te as acceptable to Him as another. 
^\l X T"* *° **y ^'"^ ^y ''«"» ' Grace be to 

even th u ^ T ^"^ J**'"' ^^"'^ '" «n«rity/ 
InH I? ^r ^^^'^'^^ their love in peculiar ways: 
and I do believe that you love our Lord Jesus Christ 
m sincerity, although I admit that you L prone to 

T&S'i' ^T'^°'' '■" * ""y '*°««kable fashion. 
Iherefore I shall command my son to offer you the 
living of Gaythome. since I believe it will be better 
for the parish to be ruled by a misguided man who 
truly loves God. than by one of my own way of 
thinking who does not" 

Gabriel's eyes filled with tears of gratitude as he took 
his old friend's hand and kissed it 

li*'*^,"*^" express in words what I feel about this 
mattM. Mrs. Gaythome. I am not only profoundly 
grateful to you for thus coming to my help in a time 
of sore need; but I am even more grateful for the 
testimony you bear to my eflTorts in the past to do what 
IS right by offenng the charge of your own parish to a 
man who does not see by any means eye to eye with 
you on many religious questions. And I swear to you 

^H^ 1° "^l'" "y P°""' *° P'**«"' yo" fro"" ever 
regretting the choice into which you have been led by 

meGS "*" of your warm and loving heart: so help 

Thus Gabriel went on his way, and the angels of God 
met him in the form of Janet Field and Mrs. Gaythome 



•M 



9n SitM<ctton 



■nd the Lord lent him bread and meat, as well aa the 
spiritual comfort of the still small Voice: So he went 
forward fejddng, little dreaming of the darkness of 
desolation which awaited him a little further on the 
load. 



CHAPTER XV 



THB LOST RECTOR 

Gabriel had not long been appointed Rector of 
Gaythorne before he became engaged to Janet Field; 
and he had not long been engaged to Janet Field before 
fte married her. It was a quiet wedding in the little 
village In the Midlands where his mother lived : and as 
it was now November, the newly-wedded pair went 
south for their honeymoon, in order to catch the last 
flutter of autumn's skirts before she faded into winter 
altogether. 

Janet was in the seventh heaven of delight To be 
Gabriels wife was to her the summit of earthly bliss— 
the one supreme happiness which she had dreamed of 
ever since her girlhood as too absolutely ideal ever to 
be realized. Gabriel also was content, in that peaceful 
fashion, which, to a highly-strung temperament, is far 
more satisfying than any fiercer emotion. 

But Fabia was greatly annoyed at the marriage of 
the new Rector. Had she known he would bring a 
helpmeet with him to the Rectory, she would not have 
moved heaven and earth to compass his appointment 
She still loved him— loved him all the more for his 
rejection of herself: but she hated his wife with the 
intense hatred of the woman scorned for her successful 
nvaL It is a notewcathy fact that a woman can 
aiS 



ti6 



sn Sn»ject<on 



forgive a rival who b better-looking than henelf far 
■ooner than one who i» not lo well-favoured. Beauty it 
the one thing In which women acknowledge each other's 
luperiority : the woman who is more attractive and yet 
not 10 handsome as another is beyond the pale of 
pardon. Therefore the beautiful and distinguished 
Fabia could not forgive the ordinary-looking girl who 
had won the love of Gabriel Carr after she herself had 
forfeited it 

Moreover, Fabia had found her own husband utterly 
Incapable of supplying her jntellectual needs ; and she 
had imagined tiiat Gabriel, as a spiritual adviser, might 
help to fill the vacuum thus created. But to the 
woman who regards the confessional as a luxury rather 
than a discipline, a married confessor Is not nearly so 
satisfactory as a single one: a strong argument In 
favour of (or, perhaps, against) tiie celibacy of the 
clergy. Finding her hopes of Gabriel's supporting 
friendship fruitiess, Fabia took to writing long letters 
to her cousin, Ram Chandar, confiding to him her 
unsatisfied longings for suitable Intellectual companion- 
ship, and begging him to come to England to console 
and help her. At first he refused, being offended by 
her marriage : but it was not long before she thought 
she saw unmistakable signs of his relenting. 

Mrs. Gaythorne was delighted about Gabriel's 
marriage. She was one of the v/omen who heartily 
approve of matrimony, and highly disapprove of the 
reverse: an old maid was always visited with her 
severest censure : and she meted out as unqualified a 
condemnation to the woman who did not marry, as to 
the woman who ate or drank anything between meals. 

Gabriel and Janet went for their honeymoon to a 
littie inn oh the borders of Dartmoor; and revelled in 



TOe Xo»t Kectoe ,„ 

the exquWte ind yet awe-IiupWng iceneiy of that part 
of England'! moat beautiful county to their hewfi 
content ; dUcu«ing at the wme time evej Si 
under the .un «,d above it, In the delightful inUmacy 
and comradeaUp of married life. It i. only when Z 
twain aie one mind as well as one flesh that the true 

•5f J!J';'.*'f """'8« '» «**•"«! : and this was the case 
with Gabriel and his wife. " '"w case 

„rl"JI^° °°'^ *,"1^,' *'°°'* "'*' *'»»» Dartmoor is the 
prfaon. remarked Janet one day, as they were sitting 
together in the twilight which now seemed to com! 

Srr '? "Jf "l"'^'' "f *« "ft^^^^n- "I hate to 
think of all those wicked people being so neS 

h. '-^' T^' ' ^'"u ""^ '*" *^«°' *'>°«'^' they may 
miytte tnr'"''""'^ ''"'"'• "*"' *'>»'»-' ""'i^ 

1 m not : and I daresay you wouldn't be if you knew 
more about them." ' 

"Yes, I should, my love ; I should be all the sorrier." 
Janet shook her small brown head severely 

on"!lI!!J'T ''"ZTy *"*" P*=°P'* *»'° bring things 
on themselves. If they do wrong they ought to be 
punished," she replied. ^ ^ ^ 

h,.» 5°f ""^ g««a"y are. my child. God may forgive, 
but Nature and the world never do." 

"And quite right tool" Janet could be very hard 
upon occasion. 

" You can never judge any man's sins until you know 
itl rr^^^'^"' ''^^ been. Janet: and as^n"y GcJ 
tell ?, HV"'^ °' "° J'"'8«- The newspapers c« 

being punished for his sins in that gloomy prison ; but 



■iS 



5nStiMectton 



only God could tell ui how lorely he has been U«fflpted, 
ud how often he lesitted temptation before he finally 
fell And God will remember it to his credit when the 
day of reckoning comes." 

" But some of the prisoners have been very wicked 
people." 

" So they may have been ; but we do not know that 
we should have turned out any better had we been 
exposed to their temptations and put in their place." 

Janet looked horrified at the bare suggestion. "^I 
don't think it is likely that we should take to flat 
burglary.* 

" No ; that would not be any temptation to people 
brought up as we have been, my dearest But we may 
be beset by other temptations which will prove too 
strong for us. I think there is no text which is more 
necessary to be constantly borne in mind by (so-called) 
good people than, ■ Let him that thinketh he standeth 
take heed lest he fall': for it Is when we are most 
certa'n of our firm footing on the narrow way, that 
the danger of falling is at its zenith." 

« Well, anyhow, I'm sure that no temptation would 
ever be strong enough to make you do anytluug wrong, 
Gabriel" 

" My darling, my darling, how little you know me I 
Do you rmember the stoiy of holy John Bradford who, 
on seeing a murderer being led to the gallows, exclaimed : 
• There but for the grace of God goes John Bradford ' ? 
When I was in the East End I never saw any poor 
wretch being taken up by the police without saying 
to myself: 'There but for the grace of God goes 
Gabriel Carr'l" 

" Dearest, I hate to hear you say such things." 

" I cannot help that, Janet You must know me as 



TEb< Xott Hector 



•19 



u what you think I ought to 



what I am, and not 
be." 

H»ed'''"*** *** ^^ *" °"' °' ***" **"* °"° *•"* "^ 
Gabriel (miled and itroked the brown head that waa 
leantog against his knee; for Janet -unlike Isabel 
Seaton— had hair that was never the worse for any 
amount of stroking. But even though a man may smile 
at the extravagance of his wife's admiration for himself. 
It has an extremely soothing effect upon him: the 
doctrine of the infallibility of the husband is a very 
comfwtable one, both to worshipper and worshipped— 
io much M that it is a pity it has gone, to a great ntent, 
out of fashion. 

., I:! ■" 'f '"''^" •*'"« °"" °^ *■>« l^t "en that ever 
Uved, my dear," he said : « but all the same, it is rather 
iiJce to know that you think I am.' 

' I shall always think sa" 

"I believe you will, my Janet: and. as far as I am 
concerned, it is a most comforting heresy. But all the 
«me, you must learn not to judge other people so 
harshly. I think it is very difficult for a really good 
woman not to be rather hard: nevertheless, she ought 
not to be. 

^ Do you think I am hard, Gabriel ? " 

"J"»* ■ "">«. my dearest ; because you are so good " 
And he bent down and kissed the little round face 
raised In such profound adoration to his. "You see," 
he conHnued, "it is never safe to feel oneself safe from 
My particular temptation. The question. «Is thy 
servant a dog that he should do this thing?' Is 
frequently answered by the servant doing the very 
^ng that he condemned as so dog-llke. I have seen 
OM* happen over and over again in my experience as a 



tte 



9n Snblectfon 



parish priest Whenever I hear a man say, ' Oh 1 such 
and such a thing may be dangerous for certain persons, 
but I can do it with impunity,' I know that the devil 
has made everything ready for the overthrow of that 
particular man." 

" But surely, Gabriel, no man is tempted above that 
which he is able to bear. We are expressly told that a 
way of escape is always provided." 

"So it is; but it does not follow that we shall always 
be willing to avail ourselves of that way. Therefore I 
hold that it is necessary for the best of men, as for the 
worst, to raise to Heaven the daily petition, ' Lead us 
not into temptation ' : for we have to be in the thick of 
temptation before we realize how irresistible it is." 

Thus Gabriel and Janet passed the long evening in 
holding sweet converse about all the deeper interests of 
life ; they " reasoned high of providence, foreknowledge, 
will, and fate," and everything else that concerned their 
truest welfare. 

The next day was wet and inclined to be misty. 
There was not much good or much pleasure to be 
derived from going out in such raw, damp weather; 
but the holiday was so near its conclusion that the 
newly-wedded pair felt they could not squander any 
of the few remaining hours of their honeymoon by 
spending them in the house : so they were out on the 
moor all morning, in spite of driving rain and mist 
But it requires more than feminine fortitude to be wet 
through twice in one day; so after lunch Janet de- 
cided that she really could not brave the inclement 
elements again, especially as there was no special object 
to be gained by so doing. Gabriel therefore we.nt out 
for a good, spin across the moor by himself, leaving 
Janet to amuse herself with an interesting book until 



TOe Xort Kectoc ,„ 

atmosphere of theUr that Z.:^^^ '^detf 

iJifferent phases of natural scenerv rail r^^u ■ 

emotions of the human heart wS t l^UZZ 

he seashore, we feel a restless sadness and an SnsatiE 

longmg quivering within us: when we tr'rd ?he leafv 

st tur^'brood"? *°"«•i^°f --a-e and herSL^ 

^^^::^i:l:^^]z utrs;s 

landscape of cornfields and meadow^and ril roof^H 
hon,esteads: whilst we seem to com" whhintach of 

3fTw^irr-r-s-rM 

atetoleTS^^S^SSsStll 
sea without its sanctifying sadness, and with tJe 
mystery of the mountains without thdr souirsL ng 

before the awful mystery of sea or mountain flv 
shnekmgover the moorland to their evil hearts"content^ 

^ I SeiSi I isj^^ 1- -- --r 

S .^ >"P«goat. with hJs necklet of ^rkt 
dwhmg to and fro across the drearv scene ■ w ? 



■at sn Snbiectfon 

child, whose hand was doomed to be against every 
man, wandering with his outcast mother across the 
barren waste. And surely He, Who knew what was 
in man, knew this also— knew that the spirit of the 
waste places of the earth was at war with the Spirit of 
God, and that evil had more power in the desert than 
on the shores of Gennesaret and in the groves of Olivet 
— when He went apart into the wilderness, there to be 
tempted of the devil. 

After Gabriel had gone out Janet was so much 
absorbed in her book thajt for an hour or so she never 
even looked out of the window ; but when at last she 
did so, she was somewhat disturbed to see that the mist 
had turned into a thick fog. This did not however 
unduly distress her, partly because she was not a woman 
with a genius for worry, and partly because her husband 
knew the moor so well that she believed he would have 
been able to find his way across it blindfold. But when 
tea-time came, and no Gabriel, she began to feel anxious; 
and when dinner-time came, and still no Gabriel, she 
felt more anxious still ; and when at last bed-time came, 
and he had not returned, her distress of mind was very 
great indeed. The innkeeper and his wife were deeply 
concerned and extremely sympathetic ; bat they pointed 
out to Janet that it would be useless, and worse than 
useless, to send men out to seek for her lost husband in 
such a fog as this, as it was now so thick that even a 
lantern could not be seen for more than a yard in front 
They assured the half-distraught little bride that her 
husband — f.nding it hopeless to make his way back 
through the fc^— had doubtless taken refuge in some 
shepherd's hut or iiheltered spot, and would remain there 
until the fog lifted ; and with this poor Janet had to be 
content, although no sleep visited her eyes that night 



11 ! 



VtK lo«t Kector „3 

The poor girl never even attempted to eo to bed- h..» 
GabS" "■■"'* '"^ alternately'^crying a'nd pra^ngS 

Next moniing the fog had cleared, and search parties 
were immediately organized to go in quest ^thl 
lost bridegroom. All day long they scoured the mcSr 
but alas! With no result; not a trace of the mS 
man cou d they find. The assistance of the polke wa! 
«.on called m, but was likewise of no avail : Gabrie! 

ea^h.***" ^° """'P* °^ ""* '*'=^ °^ tlie 

ItS!^T"''T/l"°''* "°" *»" '^' could bear. 
It seemed too cruel to have attained, after years of hope 
deferred, her heart's desire, only to have the cup dashS 
from her hps at the very moment of fruition. Of couSe 
she elegraph«l to her husband's friends : and CapL^™ 
Gaythorne and his mother came to her at onct Poor 
Mrs. Carr was so prostrated by the news of her son's 
disappearance that she was confined to her bed and 
unable to travel; but Mrs. Gaythorne was a rock ^„ 
times of trouble, and Janet waTmore th^kf^llfhS 
than she could express. 

miX^RitS;." ^''^'°™" *" ""^'"'^ '« «'«^ the 
All the searchers comforted Janet with the assurance 

XlT™:?' "^-'^^ '"^•'^"'^ '^'^ '-* his S 
foCd T? ' '"""^ *""" °f •"■* ^y """^t have been 
found. There are no glaciers upon Dartmoor, as tS 

«« in Switzerland, down which a man may fall head 
long. leaving no trace behind; and as no one could 
til S? 'f '" '"^'' * ^°^' h« really Tuld ^ 
lifted, and he could see about agaia But if he wwe 
still ^ive, what had become pf him? What Wh^ 



•M 



9n SnMectfon 



doing whilst his newly-made wife was eating her verv 
heart out for the want of him ? That was the question 
which no one could answer; at least no one who was 
ignorant of what powers of darkness had been let loose 
that night upon Dartmoor to work their wicked will ; 
no one who knew not how Good and Evil had met and 
fought together in that wilderness, and how Evil had 
won the day and had prevailed. 

Mrs, Gaythorne was as loving as any mother to poor 
Janet : nothing; could exceed her care of and tender- 
ness for the unhappy littli bride, who seemed to be 
neither wife nor widow. It was at times such as this 
that Charlie's mother showed her best— and therefore 
her real — self. 

As for Janet, she was well-nigh broken-hearted. 
Could anyone imagine a more tragic ending to a 
honeymoon than this? She wandered out all day 
and every day upon the moor, in the vain hope of 
finding her lost husband, with Mrs. Gaythorne in close 
attendance, that good woman knowing neither hunger 
nor fatigue where the fulfilment of what she considered 
her duty was concerned. Like many of her particular 
school of thought, Mrs. Gaythorne made up for 
the sternness of her principles by the wisdom and 
tenderness of her practices. Her written epistle might 
be a hard saying; but as a living epistle, known 
and read of all men, she set forth in unmistakable 
terms the gospel of love. 

One evening Captain Gaythorne came into the inn- 
parlour when his mother happened to be sitting alone, 
Janet having retired to her own desolate chamber to 
weep undisturbed. 

" Il^s all up," he said hopelessly, as he sank into a 
(hair: "we hi|d better pack up and ^ home to-oorrov." 



TIbe Xo0t Hector „s 

- Charles, do you mean to tell me that poor young 
mans corpse has been found at last?" -^ ' « 
Charlie groaned. " Worse than that, mother." 
There is nothing worse than death," replied Mrs. 

a^SSily. "•'*" "' """•' '"' *•"' -™-"." »he 

deltl^' '"°*''"' ^"^ "' *^"^'*" " ''°"« t^*n 
Mrs. Gaythome drew herself up. '• Charles, never let 

whh r/°" "'^^'"^''^ '^°'''' *" "^^Sr^^^ '■" connection 
with that man of God, Gabriel Carr" 

vyir^'-A^ '"n?'^ *''~'*' ^ '*" *«*" y°". ""othe^ but 
rre£d."^° ""^ " yourself when you hear what 

"And what is that. Charles? Where did they find 
the corpse of that excellent young man ? " 

"They haven't found it at all. Don't you see 
mother, here's no corpse in the question. Thafs the 
whole point of the thing." «"» uie 

" Charles, explain yourself.* 

Captain Gaythome endeavoured_as he had always 
endeavoured from his youth up-to obey his moth^ 
but luadrty of expression had never been one of h" 
most distinguishmg characteristics. 

-Well don't you see, the police have at last traced 
Carr to Newton Abbot ? " 

"Newton Abbot! What on earth did he want at 
MrTSjJhomr"' °" '"'^°"^>""'-" too?»exclaS.i' 
" That's just the whole point" 

».".^!!°".^ f'"''^ ^^'''"' •"= ^^ "«"* *ere. Gabriel 
raScklL'"" '°/° "■yth'-'^B foolish, especially 
ma thick fog-except o' course in matters of ritual 
with regard to which he always seemed to h«l 



>t6 



9n SnMectton 



a bee in his bonnet, to ny the least of it But he 
was not a fool all through : and it is one thing to 
have early services and flowers upon the Communion 
Table, and quite another thing to go to Newton 
Abbot in a dense f(^ on your honeymoon witL no 
object" 

* All the same he went there, mother. An old fossil 
of a farmer has turned up who gave him a lift in his cart 
as far as Newton Abbot" 

Mrs. Gaythoroe still bristled all over with doubts. 

'! And what did he do when he got to Newton Abbot, 
I shcvld like to know ? " she asked. 

" He went straight to the station, and oif to London 
by the next train. The railway fellows can tell us all 
about that, as they sold him his ticket and saw him get 
into the train." 

" I do not believe a word of it It is a trumped-up 
story invented to injure Gabriel and to annoy me." 

"But, mother, you must believe it A countryman 
drove a parson in a grey Norfolk suit, exactly 
answering to the description of Carr, into Newton 
Abbot on the morning after the fog." 

" That is not proo£ There may have been hundreds 
of clergymen in grey Norfolk suits wandering upon 
Dartmoor in the fog, for all I know. Besides, I never 
believe the word of agricultural labourers without some 
proof" 

"Well, mother, if you ^ doubt the evidence of the 
farmer and the railway people and the whole of 
Scotland Yard put together, you can't doubt the 
evidence of your own senses. Look here I Carr left 
this behind in the cart when he got out at Newton 
Abbot" And Charlie spread out before his mother's 
eym one of Gabriel's pocket-handkerchiefs, neatly and 



TOe Xoet Kector •,, 

^ItT^ "'*' hi. «a.a b, th. «ef„, „, 

«,3?'" ,'*.'"*.**"• Gtythorne was convinced. For 
.Zt.""^ " 'I' "* •»"'■*• '*^"' e'"t tears rolling 
silent./ down her weatlier-beaten cheeks. «0h! 
Ch«.l«, what does it mean?" she said, after a time. 

What do« it mean?" And it was piUful to he^ 
the quiver in the usually steady voice. 

"I'm afraid it means that Carr has behaved like a 
blackguard, mother." "««vca uxe i 

pleaded ; "such a sincere and God-fearing man. though 
in some matters so misguided." * 

"I know that, mother; but even the best of men 
come a cropper sometimes, don't you know? Look 
at the great Lord Nelsoa" 

"Charles, never again let me hear yon refer In mv 
prince to the lover of Lady Hamiltoa" ^ 

Charlie was contrite at once. "I beg your oardon 
mother: I didn't mean to rough ^u'^u" ^l i 

fo^th."^**^, '**' """='^"«' tT difficult Jven 
for the best of men to keep straieht W«m«. 

hav«ittheghostof a idea how d'euSl'^cult^rj!!: 

^1 ^^^''"en.'^ve a very good idea indeed of how 

disb«s.ng it I, when they do noV replied MrJ 

Gaythome. with some truth. 

nol£°fM^'"'''l!''^''"'"'^*''°'»«"n»>eritedagoodly 
porUon of his mother's sound sense, "that Ca« Se a 
m«take fa manymg . q„iet. dowdy^irl likcj^et Refd 
SeZ do^r'* 1° ''°" * brilliant, good-loiking fXw 
to hold them : or else there's soon the devil to pj. » 
a.-rii"* r "^^ attractions than those of the flesh, 
uwrica I WM never a particnlariy hMdsome womli 



■tt 



9tt SaMectfon 



but I hid no difficulty In holding your father. He 
always did exactly as I told him, from the day of our 
marriage till the hour of his death." 

Charlie fully believed this. 

"Of course, of course, mother: and yoa are very 
good-looking, all the same. But I mean I never much 
believe In those boy-and-glrl sort of attachments. You 
see, Janet was always like a sister to Carr, and she had 
no more influence over him than a sister would have. 
A man wants something stronger than a milk-and- 
water, brother -and -sister 'feeling to satisfy him In 
married life. Why, It even says In the Prayer-book 
that a man may not marry his sister any more than 
his grandmother, and thafs the same principle, don't 
you know?" 

" Charles, I admit there is something in what you say. 
But that does not seem to me to excuse a man from 
running away from his wife on his honeymoon." 

* Of course not : but in a way it explains It I bellevw 
that poor Carr married Janet out of a sense of duty or 
honour, or something of that kind, because she'd been 
in love with him from a kid ; and then, when he'd done 
it, he found it was more than he could stand ; so he just 
cut and run. You see, clever people iind It awfully 
slow to be married to people who aren't clever," Charlie 
added ruefully, remembering how obviously he himself 
always bored his wife. 

" We must keep this from Janet «t all costs,* said 
Mrs. Gaythome, after a short pause. " It is better for 
her to think her husband dead than false." 

"We cant keep it from her, mother. The papep 
to-morrow wfll be full of it, and you know how she 
reads every word. 

"Then we cannot keep H fimn her, Charlea; Am 



tbe Xoft Kectoe ..9 

S^ri^iulT w*°^ And perhap. It I. better th.t 
InL^f ♦ ' ^"°* 'P""* P~P'« "ore than God 

intends to .pare them, and it h no tise our tn^faelo 
do •• : wid futtly the T.-ord knows best" 



CHAPTER XVI 



rORSAKEM 



On her return from her Ill-starred honeymoon, Juiet 
Insisted upon taking up her abode at Gaythorne 
Rectory, as if nothing had happened. She had read 
in the papers the account cf Gabriel's departure to 
London from Newton Abbot, and had been wonder- 
fully comforted by this proof that her husband was 
still alive. But she absolutely refused to believe any 
ill of him. She persisted that he must have had some 
good reason for rushing off to London In that strange 
fashion, or else he never would have done so ; and she 
was convinced that before long he would return to 
Gaythorne and take up his duties there, with a full 
and satisfactory explanation of his apparently unjustl* 
liable conduct Her absolute faith in him remained 
unshakea 

But this attitude of mind on Janef s part made things 
very awkward for other people. The parish of Gay- 
thorne was practically without a Rector ; and as Carr 
had not resigned the living, and there was no proof of 
his death but rather the contrary, he still held the 
Incumbency; and therefore a new Rector could not as 
yet be Instituted In his place. So it was arranged 
'between the Bishop and Mrs. Gaythorne, who were 
great friends, that— for the present at any rate— Janet 



rorMken 



•St 



«nd her mother-in-law should draw the lUpend and 
•tay on at the Rectory; while a curate should be paid 
by Mfs. Gaythorne to teke charge of the parish, which 
WM a very small one, and to do duty in the Church. 

Weeks rolled on, and nothing further was heard of 
toe missing Gabriel. It seemed as if the Devonshire 
farmer had indeed seen the last of him ; and as if when 
he left the sUtion of Newton Abbot he had disappeared 
for ever. But his wife's faith in him remained un- 
touched. She still clung as closely as ever to her 
conviction that one day he would come back and 
explain everything, and stand justified in the eyes of 
the world ; though how he would do it she had not the 
ghost of an idea. 

Mrs. Gaythorne, however, had her own explanation 
of his apparenUy inexplicable conduct She was bound 
to arrive at a conclusion of some sort, as it was agony 
to her to feel that there was anything in heaven or 
earth undreamed of in her own peculiar philosophy. 

" I have made up my mind what has become oi 
Gabriel Carr," she announced one morning at breakfast 
a couple of months after the Rector's disappearance: ' 

Her son and daughter-in-law were sitUng with her at 
tab\t, as well as Isabel Seaton, who was spending a few 
days at Gaythorne Manor while Paul delivered a course 
of political speeches in the north of England. Isabel 
had been very much attached to Gabriel, and very 
mi a surprised and disturbed at first by his disappear- 
a ..c But she had soon got over it It is astonishing 
how little powei events outside the circle of her own 
household and family have in destroying the peace of 
the happily-married woman. Things which would have 
agonized her in her single days hardly disturb ber at 
all Mrs. Paul Seaton had much in common with the 



•f 



9n SnbiecMoii 



old wonan who laid that " u lone u her husband's 
dinner didnt dliagree with him, the didn't mind how 
■oon there wai a European war." It is by no means 
an uncommon type: for matrimony, when reverently, 
discreetly, and advisedly taken in hand, becomes an 
absorbing profession. 

"How clever of you, Mrs. Gaythomel" exclaimed 
Isabel "Do let us hear what it is." 

"I believe that Ritualism— and nothing else but 
Ritualism— is responsible for all this trouble," replied 
Mrs. Gaythome, as ever true to her colours. 

"But there is nothing in the Ornaments Rubric in 
favour of deserting your wife on her honeymoon," 
argued the irrepressible Isabel. 

"But there's something in the Bible about people 
with wives being as though they hadn't any," hastily 
added Charlie, wishing to agree with his mother, and 
believing that he was doing sa 

But Mrs. Gaythome was not so easily agreed with. 

" No, Charles ; I think you have misinterpreted that 
particular text; but you shall look it up in the 
Commentary as soon as you have finished your 
breakfast, and see exactly what it means. My impres- 
sion, however, is that it was not intended to inculcate 
the r^ular practice of such behaviour as Gabriel's." 

Charlie at once subsided. He felt that, with the best 
of intentions, he had somehow made a mistake. 

Here Fabia broke into the conversation : 

"He who weds and runs away, may live to wed 
another day, and another young womaa" 

Mrs. Gaythome pursisd up her lips In stem 
disapproval: 

" No, my dear ; Gabriel Carr was never one of that 
sort I have known him from a child and his mother 



forMken 



•u 



before him, and that Ii the but thing that dtber ol 
them would ever thinic of doing." 

" Still I ffliitt ny there Ii lomethlng in Fabia's idea," 
Mid Charlie. 

He was always ready, wbenerer it wai poetiUe, to 
•how up Us wife to his mother in a favourable light 
This was one of the poor fellow's many conjugal mis- 
Uke» There is nothing that a wife resents more than 
being screened by her husband from her husband's 
relations : just as there Is nothing that makes a husband 
more indignant than being translated, with emendations 
by his wife, in order to earn tb.e approval of his wife's 
people. Yet the intention on both sides arises ftom the 
best of motives, although it generally brings about the 
very result tiiat it was originated to avoid. Unsancti- 
fied human nature cannot endure to be revised and 
Bowdlerized for the benefit of iu in-laws. 

"We don't want to hear what you say: we want 
to hear what Mrs. Gaytiiome thinks," was Fabia's 
unwifely restort 
Poor Charlie again subsided. 
"What is your idea about Gabriel Carr, Mrs. 
Gaythorne ? " Fabia continued. 

" It is not an idea, Fabia, it is a conviction. It has 
been borne in upon me that Gabriel had so saturated 
his mind with Popish notions about monks and nuns 
and celibates, and all sorts of nonsense of tiiat 
kind, tiiat they turned his brain— never very strong at 
the best of times, or else he would not have gone in for 
tile mummeries he did. By tiie way, what do tiiey call 
a nunnery for monks 7 " 

Mrs. Gaythorne always shammed ignorance upon 
subjects such as this, in the same way as His Majesty's 
Judges frequentiy feign an igmwance, to which tiiey 



•34 



9n Snbiection 



III 



really have no claim, with regard to matters oncoiH 
nected with their high profession. Just as a judge 
would feel it incumbent upon him in his official capacity 
to assume innocence r^arding race-meetings and the 
like, so Mrs. Gaythome felt it incumbent upon her high 
calling as a militant Protestant to know nothing what- 
soever about the ceremonies and institutions sanctioned 
by Catholicism in any form. 

" I suppose you mean a monastery," replied Fabia. 

"Monastery, indeed! I should rather call it a 
monkey-house," retorted Mrs. Gaythome, with grim 
humour. "Well, I am convinced that Gabriel was 
suddenly seized with a ridiculous and papistical notion 
that all clergymen ought to be bachelors ; and so he 
fled away from Janet into a monastery. What are those 
horrible places called where no women are admitted and 
nobody is allowed to speak, Fabia 7 " 

" Trappist monasteries, do you mean 7 " 

" Yes, that is the name and a very suitable name too, 
for they are indeed traps set by the devil to catch the 
souls of men I Not long i^ I read a novel about a 
man who, after he was married, remembered that he was 
a Trappist monk ; so he at once £;ave up being married 
and returned to his monastery. I thought it a most 
improper proceeding on his part: but I feel convinced 
in my own mind that poor Gabriel has gone and done 
likewise." 

*But Carr wasn't a Trappist before his marriage," 
objected Captain Gaythome. 

His mother shook her head ominously. "You 
never can tell what those High-Church parsons may 
not be in disguise. I dare say he was a Trappist and 
a Jesuit as well, if we only knew. Lots of them ane^ 
and belicive that they are thereby doing God service" 



"But Cwr would never have justified a married man 
going into a monastery unless thcre'd liave been some 
rattling good reason for it," persisted Charlie : ■ymi can 
t*t your boots upon that" 

"Anybody who will justify a man, in any 
circumstances, in hiding himself in one of those 
dreadful, horrible nunneries, will justify anything,'' 
replied Mrs. Gaythome, unwittingly speaking the truth, 
as a man in a nunnery would indeed be as dreadful a 
thing as a lion among ladies. "And, Charles, nevo 
again let me hear you use such an objectionable word 
as 'bet'; for betting is one of the things that I have 
never allowed either you or your father to indulge in 
and never shall 

" I don't agree with Mrs. Gaythome that Gabriel hai 
followed Hamlet's advice and got him to a nunnery,* 
said Isabel; "but I shouldn't be surprised if she were 
correct in the spirit if not in the letter ; and that some 
impractical and quixotic notion were accountable for 
his disappearance. I feel certain that he thought be 
was doing right, or he wouldn't have done it" 
Charlie looked doubtful. 

« If s all very well to be romantic and quixotic and 
all that sort of thing ; but deserting your wife on youi 
honeymoon is rather a large order," he remarked. 

"I agree with Charlie's notion," said Fabia; "thai 
Janet bored him so intensely that he literally could not 
stand another day of hsr." 

Charlie beamed with pleasure at the great compU- 
ment Fabia paid him in endorsing his opinion on any 
matter. " He is a clever sort of chap, and he wanted a 
clever sort of wife to keep him company, dont you 
know?" 
- 1 dare say Mr^ Gabriel Carr isn't a daszling genius. 



«3« 



9n Snblectton 



remarked Isabel, "but I shouldn't have called her by 
any means a fooL She seemed to me the pleasant, 
easy-going sort of a girl that one asks in at the last 
moment to make the fourteenth at table, and things of 
that kind. I taw her once or twice before her marriage, 
and that is how she struck me : not too clever to get 
married, and yet too stupid to remain single — ^the sort 
of woman that makes a man really happy." 

Isabel was always ready and more than ready to do 
justice to another woman. 

" But she's so short" Captain Gaythome, like Lord 
Byron, hated a dumpy woman. 

"Still he knew that when he proposed to her," 
retorted Mrs. Seatoa " It is absurd to marry a woman 
of five foot three, and then to run away because she 
doesn't grow to five foot six before the end of the 
honeymoon I If you want 'outside ladies' size,' you 
must order it in the first instance." 

" I did," replied Charlie, looking at his tall wife with 
adoration in his honest eyes. 

" We are all as God made us," said Mrs. Gaythorne, 
ber voice heavy with reproof. 

" But you can't deny you are glad that there was no 
skimping in your case, Mrs. Gaythome, and that you 
were cut out a good five foot seven, with ample material 
for bodice." 

" Isabella Camaby, do not be flippant" 

It was a habit of Mrs. Gaythome's fi«quently to 
address married ladies by their maiden names. It was 
also her habit never to use a diminutive ; diminutives 
being among the numerous things of which she 
disapproved. 

" 111 try not ; but it is difficult to change the habits 
of a lifetime at my age," replied Mrs. Seatcm meekly. 



forsaken ,„ 

"Nevertheless," added Mrs. Gaythome, who wu 
nothing If not accurate, "J confess that It is a cause 
of thankfulness on my part that It was ordained by 
Providence that I should not be a small or insignificant 
person. Presence is a thing which I have always 
considered most important, my dear Isabella." 

Isabella was not Isabel's name ; but Mrs. Gaythome 
thought it ought to to have been, and so invariably 
addressed her by it She regarded the name Isabel 
in the light of a diminutive, and disapprovH of it 
accordingly. 

'• If s always a mistake for a fellow to marry a dowdy 
little woman," said Charlie sententiously : " frumiw 
have no staying power." 

"And It is an equally grave mistake for a girl to 
marry a fool," replied Fabla. 
Charlie winced, but Isabel came to his rescue, 
"Lots have to. or they'd never get married at alL 
^''J'"* * '°°' **"'''' propose to them," she said. 
Thus Gabriel Carr's friends discussed his mysterious 
disappearance and none of them could come to any 
satisfactory conclusion, since none of them knew of the 
tragedy which had occurred upon Dartmoor on the night 
of the fog. That was known to only two living people • 
and of those the Instinct of self-preservation forbade the 
one to tell, and nobody would accept the testimony of 
the other. So the testimony was in safe keeping. 

Janet was very brave, but her sorrow told upon her- 
her face grew older and her figure less plump, and the' 
merry look died oat of her hazel eyes. But she carried 

*,^^^"i '*'"" ** '"''^' '^ '^ abundantly 
falfiled h« duty to her husband's parish. She wa» an 
Ideal wife fw any clergyman ; and even the ovmrfeda. 
fag blew which luul weU-nlgh crushed her, in no win 



«^ 9n stiMectfon 

interfered with her adeqmcy in adorning the lot to 
which ihe had been called. The parish of Gaythome 
was but a small parish, it is true; but it was better looked 
after than any other parish in tbe county, every cottage 
being constantly visited and every sick person carefully 
ministeied to l^ Janet herself. Thus her desolate day 
were filled with deeds of charity and acts of mercy, and 
so were kept from being quite as desolate as they would 
otherwise have been : for work— and especially work for 
others— is the best panacea for the pain of the human 
heatt ' 

Another scui ce of comfort to Janet was the possession 
of a gift wbi'.' is usually reserved for the stronger sex 
and is rarely bestowed upon women, namely, the gift of 
not seeing anything that she did not wish to see. 
Women, as a rule, are too keen-sighted and too quick in 
their perceptions to be able to close their eyes at will, 
and a stone wall is generally to them as plate-glass : but 
men— happy creatures l^iave a marvellous power of 
not seeing the unpleasant truth at all, unless they desire 
to do sa Even though you may illuminate it with 
Chinese lanterns and dangle it under their very noses, 
they will remain as blind as if it were an undiscovered 
planet They do not choose to see it : therefore for 
them it does not exist Most men are mute, inglorious 
Nelsons, putting the telescope to their blind eye when 
they think the signals will be against their wishes. It 
is a most comfortable and convenient custom, and shows 
the superior wisdom of the sex which is proficient 
in it Janet Carr, however, had less subtlety than the 
majority of women, and less quickness of perception : 
she was almost as easily deceived (when she 
wished to be) as a man. She had none of that 
narvdloas power of intuition which distioguidia some 



fotMUn ,,, 

j-and not alwayi the cleverest-women: md the had 
wS'Sl**?* *"*" deeply-rootcd prejudices-things 
^t^ always useful as blinkers. Therefore the 
stoeam of gossip about Gabriel flowed by her unheeded : 
Jhejas as htUe affected by It as a man would have 

But Janet's chief stronghold lay In the fact that she 

^JT^,°^}^J°°^'"' *"«* ** soundness of his 
wisdom m leaving her. What wise reason had prompted 

rl*?^^ ^ unaccountable action, she of course could 
r.?«? » * ^V ^ ''" * reason -and an all- 
h™S V?''"?* ^ "°* ^^ *■*•'"*«»» 'hadow of a 
doubt Thus she not only fulfilled her duty to her 
husbands parish, but she also fulfilled her duty to her 
husband, the parish-priest She regarded the husband 
as the head of the wife; and therefore held that It was 
not in the wife's province to criticize his actions or to 
question his motives. She was accountable to him : but 
he WM not accountable to her. It was a counsel of 
perfection, periiaps: but perfection does not spell 
impoMibillty: otherwise "Be ye periect," would neTer 
have been a command issued to the sons of men. Janet 
Carr implicitly obeyed the apostolic Injunction, that 
wives oiust be In subjection to their own husbands- 
She had no new-fangled notions as to the equality 
of the sexes and the independence of the wife 
She was content to accept the holy estate of matrimony 
as what God and the Church ordained It to be: and she 
did not trouble her mind with problems as to the 
permanence of home-life or the sanctity of marriage. 
To her. marriage was a sacrament, and was therefore 
not open to observation : and she held as most unseemly 
the modem habit of letting aside^ by means of proUen. 



•4« 911 Sn^f ectfon 

novels and Mientific treatises and open discussions in 
the daily papers, the very oracles of God. She would 
as soon have thought of wandering whether the grass 
were red or the sky green, as of wondering whether the 
bond of holy wedlock were dissoluble. 

She believed in her husband's int^ty with all her 
heart— believed that what he had done had been done 
with the best of motives and would end in the most 
satisfactory of results. But if she had not believed this, 
it would have made no difference at all in her attitude 
towards him. If she could have been convinced that he 
had purposely forsaken her and had beA wholly un- 
faithful, she would not have regarded herself as one 
whit the less his wife, or considered her duty to him as 
in any way cancelled. 

Such was the simple faith of Janet Carr : an out-wora 
creed, according to modem notions, and one which 
contained in its vocabulaiy no words such as "incom- 
patibility of temper." " temperamental differences," and 
thelik<> 



CHAPTER XVII 
THB BEGIKNINC OF TROUBLB 

As time went on. the relations between Ctptala 

SSSr "w '"\'«»""f"' w'fc g«w more and S^^ 
rt«med: her contempt for him was mo« openly 

Sni,S^ i^ ""•>*??'"«»« »t her indilTerence moiJ 
fally dispUyed. every day they spent toeether Of 

JS^? ^\uP~' ^"^"^ °>"«««> '«' veo' badly 
te tj^ *^*^ ?^ '~»*" *ho wante7to fiSS 

he was . manly enough man where hfa own ^x i« 

SSrSs^'"^'^,""-^ ''^^^ and'"his"Sir 
«S !^^^ ''«■ '™° *« «»« «>«t he first 
SSi.Sd!^f ^l^-^boyhehadbeentraiSS 
to be afraid of his mother, and consequently as . m»n 

~tS;::sii^'^h Hewouw^o^X'^r 

SSL^^' ,""• yf ^'' P*"'"P»' therefore-the 

rowS2«.T^ * ""^ *""'"» **» ''"'^o'' to a 
niDject race : it always renders that race exarHn. .»j 

cjerb^-ng. U 1. M«.. p„ce to r^leTJnTSSn"^ 
that he lay, down hi. sceptre, Woman snatches ft T 



u» 



9n f ttbiectien 



and hits him arm the head with It—«i he richly 
deaervei. Women invariably bully the men who are 
afraid of them, be they huibanda or brothers or ions ; 
and the more a man cringes before them, the less con- 
sideration they show him. The true man will always 
regard his wife as a queen, and treat her with all 
homage and reverence as such ; but he wUl know in his 
heart that she is really onlj a queen -consort, though on 
that score entitled to all the more chivalry and con- 
sideration. In the smaller things of life he will render 
to her every courtesy— it will be bis to fetch and carry, 
hers to order and command. Because he rules in the 
greater things, he will always submit to her wishes in 
the lesser: because the crown is really his, he will 
always allow her the full prerogatives of the coronet 
The man who domineers over his wiie in trifles, is as 
unworthy of his kingship as b the man who trembles 
before her with regard to the weightier matters of the 
law : for the very fact that he b by right her lord and 
master, should make him all the more eager never 
publicly to display himself as such, or to lower his 
royal dignity by dragging it in the dust of petty 
domestic affairs. A crown Ij not the fitting headgear 
for the daily walk abroad or the peaceful evening at 
home : a sceptre is not the suiUble implement for the 
stirring of tea-cups or the making of puddings. 

There is nothing which so cheapens and vulgarizes 
an article as over-advertisement: there are some things 
•o delicately made that to talk about them destroys 
them. There is truth as well as beauty in the legend 
of the bride who lost her fairy-lover as soon as she 
asked him his name : as he told it to her, he vanished. 
The man who tells us that he is great, thereby proves 
flw own littleness ; the woman who announces that slie 



TOe Se0(nn(iig or TTronNe 



•43 

V^^:^?T^^ '■"'i'"' '"' "e"' to t»» «tle Have 

divine right For sacb divinity doth hedee a Wn? 
who is in any sense a nsal trn^ fh.f T ^ "*^' 

A^tWs rule obtain, in even, other departmenTofUfc 
Good wine of any kind needs no bush. The w^Mv Un * 
bred person does not boast of blatoJ^J^^^^' 

^l^r ''"™° '^ ni^u^'tt^Sn W 
charms. The moment that a thing requires to stLnl 
up by advertisement and cxplanatif nZ^iS^ SS 
to be a sham and a humbug, and had better h^*v^ 

It was a great pity, for her sake as weU as for hi. 
»uia not get them ftom one source, she would get then 



•44 9n SnMection 

from another. After Gabriel w lignally ftiled her all 
along the line, she fell back upon her old friend, Ram 
Chandar MukharjL And Ram Chandar was a clever 
man, who knew how to make the most of his oppor- 
tunities. He answered her letters in full, giving her In 
unstinted measure all the intellectual stimulus and 
sympathy in which her husband was so conspicuously 
lacking ; and he scrupulously refrained from writing a 
wwd which could by the freest translation be construed 
into anything approaching love-making. He k-new that 
Fabia was as yet unprepared for the actual existence of 
a lover, although she was quite ready to amuse herself 
with the shadow and spirit of the thing ; and he also 
knew that when once a married woman begins thus to 
amuse herself, the appearance upon the scene of the 
actual lover is but a matter of time: Some Command- 
ments are broken suddenly or not at all ; but others 
demand a more gradual process of disintegration, lest 
the breaker should be so shocked at the idea of the 
catastrophe that the Commandment would never get 
broken at all Whatever defects the devil may have 
otherwise, he always shows himself an adept in his own 
particular line of business; and he is unrivalled in his 
powers of manipulating that effective instrument known 
as the thin end of the wedge. 

It unfortunately happenec* that Fabia was left very 
much to herself and her husUmd just then. Christmas 
was over, and Mrs. Gaythome was plunged in a vortex 
of godly dissipation and holy mirth ; and was submerged 
In a whirlpool of public meetings, which would gain in 
force and number all through the spring, until they 
reached their very maelstrom at Exeter Hall in May. 
Therefore, she spent a considerable portion of her time 
in Loodoo; and when at home was far too much 



Vbe ScolniKna or icronble 14s 

occupied by the straM of rampant philanthropy to have 
•ay leisure or attention to beatow upon her aon'i 
conjugal difficultiei. i~» "w wni 

were going; but she was one of the rare women who 
have mastered the fine art of minding their own 
business; and, having possessed herself of so valuable 
and uncommon an accomplishment, she was naturally 
prone to practise the tame Nine times out of ten- 
nay, rather ninety-nlne times out of a hundred-harm 
nstead of good is wrought by the intermeddling of well- 
intentioned persons in affairs not their own. Probably 
far less evil is brought about in the world by really bad 
and unprincipled people, than by conscientious and 
wdl-meaning ones who interfere with matters that do 
not concern them. And women far more than men are 
offends fa this rwpect When a really good wom«, 
l^rtL * "*^"« outpourfag of the missionary 
spirit, the amount of mischief that she wiU effect fa a 

^ Jr/ Ll"°^ '""^^"^ S*"' »*" «>"• >«»««' 

!^JS^^^' **""* -"*• ^'•' •»"»»"«> «•«» wife : 
she WiU estrange devoted lover- ad separate very 

S?IS " r*^!.""' **'^" P"" contentedlTto 
iSh frT'^u"" °^' ^' »"'=«"f"l efforts, «id 
S u ^*^ .°" ^ ''"'^ ««^ night for whS she 
wUl euphoniously term "opportuniti« of usefulne*^ 

She wm never have tiie ghost of an idea that she is ,i, 
dLST'j"*^* *PP'''«* emissaries for introducfag 
dacord and stirring up strife. Let the first of m 
^has never suffered from the weU-meant inter- 

dtoSal lT*^;!::''T '^""' «y • word fa her 
jejMM^ I trow her advocates will be few and ikr 

Therefor, it w« to be counted to Isabelibr ilghtMBi. 



M 



9ii Sntf cctfON 



«M» that the never attempted to Mt matten itraMit 
between ChtrHe and Febta. She waa a married wonan 
herwlf to ahe knew the danger of meddling between 
husband and wife. She was perhapa overbold as a 
matchmaker; bat she shrank from the awful responai- 
bill^ of putting Munder-by word or hint or innuendo 
-those whom God had joined together. A single 
woman woulc* doubtless have rushed in where Mrsi Paul 
Seaton feared to tread. But she had learnt wisdom In 
the only school where it b properly tau^t— the achool 
of experience : so she held ^er peace. 

There is a delightful story told (and a true one, too) 
of a lady with a very naughty lltUe boy, who consulted 
a friend— one with seven children of her own— as to how 
she was to train this rebellious oUve-branch. " I'll tell 
you what to do.- replied the mother of seven ; "go 
straight to the 6rst old maid you meet, and she will 
teach you exactly how to deal successfully with the 
matter. But if s no good coming to me, because I know 
no more about It than yon da" 

Now childless women are not more omniscient in the 
training of the young, than are old maids in the manage- 
ment of husbands. And by the term "old maid' I 
mean the typical "old maid": not the broad-minded, 
large-hearted spinster, whose singleness is her own fault 
and every man's misfortune ; but the petty, provincial, 
narrow-minded woman, sneering at her more fcMtunate 
sUter and poking her crooked fingers into everybody's 
pies, who would be just as much an old maid had she 
been married and had a large family— who would. In 
truth, have been just as much an old maid had she been 
amaa In &ct, many <rfd maids have been men. and It 
has not made them any the less old-maidish: Indeed 
father mere so. And It is this typical, old-maid natnra 



Ube Jkalnnina of VcouMe .47 

which b generally mott itrongly imbued with the 
miulonary spirit 

Perhaps there is no type of woman more utterly 

fcscinating and delightful than the really charming 

single woman— the woman who retains the fascination 

and freshness of girlhood after she has attained to the 

culture and wisdom of maturer life. The dew of the 

morning Is still in her eyes, even though she has watched 

the lengthening of the shadows : the scent of the spring 

Is still in her hair, even though it be crowned with the 

garlands of autumn. She has never been awakened by 

the cares and realities of marriage, from the dreams of 

her girlhood : her place Is In the glades of the forest 

rather than In the marlcet-place-in the garden of spices 

rather than in the store-closet ConsequenUy she has 

more sympathy with and understanding of the young 

than has the busy matron : for she still stands upon 

the mountain.top, and sees the promised land through 

the magic haze of dUtance, as the young are standing 

and seeing I ThU type of wonsan will nerer be obsessed 

by the missionary spirit; for she will be too shy to 

rebuke, too sensitive to interfere. She will do good and 

not evil all the days of her life, by the tenderness of her 

heart and the purity of her soni: and the children of 

countieM of her contemporaries will rise up and call her 

blessed. Because she does not belong exclusively to 

one man, she will have leisure to sympathize with many • 

because no child calls her mother, she will have « 

wealth of universal mother-love to lavish upon aU. 

But unfortunately the interfering style of old maid is 
by &r the more common species; and Isabel Seaton 
had known so much harm dona in this fashion by 
persona not really evil-minded, that she hctself wu 
pwfaape Inclined rather to err upon the other side^ and 



M 



9n Subiectfon 



to keep sflence even from good words, when such wcrds 
would have been helpful and salutary. There is a 
distinct difference between unjustifiable interference 
and the necessary word of warning: but it requires a 
very astute mathematician to know exactly where to 
draw the line between the two! Anyhow, it came 
about that Isabel refrained from saying a word to 
Charlie as to the danger of his wife's obvious indifference 
to him, and of her determination— if he failed to afford 
her sufficient amusement— to seek the same elsewhere, 
vid she likewise refrained for the present from saying 
anything to Fabia upon the subject either, as she did 
not wish to be the confidante of Mrs. Charles Gaythome's 
feelings towards her husband. 

Isabel was a woman of the world ; and she knew that 
there are no people so much disliked as the people who 
are made— even though it be against their own wishes— 
the recipients of confidences to which they are not 
entitled. We hate for ever afterwards the pewons to 
whom, according to common parlance, we have "given 
ourselves away"; even although the libation may have 
been purely voluntary at the time, and quite undesired 
upon their part Therefore wise men— and women— do 
not receive confidences the giving of which they know 
will afterwards be regretted by the donors. 

Of course Isabel might have spoken to Charlie's 
mother upon the subject; but she shrank from doing 
liiis ; partly because such a course savoure<« of the most 
unjustifiable kind of interference ; and partly because 
■he loved popularity, and there is nothing that renders 
anyone so unpopular as the imparting of disagreeable 
faiforraation. 

The Lady Constance hit upon a great truth when ihe 
•xdaiffifld to the bearer of evil tidinp— "This news 



Zbe Se0fnnfn0 or VconNe .49 

l»th made thee a most ugly man ! " Hideous indeed in 
the eyes of us all are the faces of those who come to us as 
prophets of evil : and likewise lovely are the messengers 
who bring us the gospel of peace I Yet there are men 
Md iromen who wish to be attractive and desire to gain 
the ^ection of their fellow-men, who nevertheless do 
not hesitate— Indeed rather hasten— to cany the ill 
news and the evfl report to those whose good opinions 
t^ most covet; every word they utter is either a 
reflection or a complaint ; every criticism they make is 
an unfavourable one. It never occurs to them that the 
ughness of the message which they bear is reflected in 
their own countenances : otherwise they would surely 
hold their peac& 

So Charlie and Fabia drifted further and further 
apart; and Fabia clung more and more to the support 
and sympathy of Ram Chandar MukharjL 

"TUm new agent that I've got is a fool-an utter 
fool I exclaimed Charlie, as his wife and he were 
sitting at luncheon one day, Mrs. Gaythome being 
busi y engaged in London in carrying on bloodlen 
revolutions for the benefit of the whole human 
race. 

"Then why did you eng:^ him? I thought an 
agenfs duty was to supply the deficiencies of his 
employer— not to emulate them." 

"Of course, darling, I didn't know he was a fool 
when I engaged him : otherwise I should have been a 
fool myself for doing sa" 

, 1 ^"^^y '' '^ y°^ '^•'* ^^ done it nevertheleaa 
I hMe known yoa and wisdom part company before 

HOW* 

"I oAan wonder what fooli wtn Bade fer" Ik 
inte Squire gnunbied on. ' 



«So 



?n Snbfectton 



"So do I: but I should have Imagined that yen 
would have found that out before now." 

Charlie was hurt, but he tried not to show It ; and 
Fabia despised him all the more for being so thick- 
skinned, so she imagined, as not to feel the cut of her 
lash. In the interests of peace he changed the subject : 
another misUke on his part, as then Fabia despised him 
for being frightened and running away. 

" I wonder if poor old Carr will ever turn up aeain." 
he said. , f -k . 

" A good many people are wondering that : you are 
not by any meaus solitary in your speculations." 

"It is desperately rough on Janet 1 She looks 
wretchedly ill, poor little thing I " 

" You would hardly expect her to laugh and grow fat 
upon such a catastrophe, would you ? " 

It was certainly uphill work talking to Fabia; but 
Charlie bravely went on his patient, doggpl way, trying 
his hardest to make himself pleasant, which was the * 
very last thing he should have endeavoured to da 

" Of course not, old girl ; by Jove, no I I should 
think it would knock any woman to pieces for her 
husband to chuck It aU up, and cut and run on his 
honeymoon." 

"Not necessarily: it would depend upon the 
husband," answered Fabia, in a tone which implied 
that if only Captain Gaythome had seen fit to cut and 
run on his honeymoon, it would have been the most 
advantageous arrangement possible for all parties 
concerned. 

"But I really think the poor little thing was awfully 
gone <m Carr, don't yon know ? » persisted Charlie, sUll 
intent apon his eowardly desire for peace at any price. 
"Naturally. Those plain, dowdy little women arc 



Ubc Xeoinnftid of VrouUe 



always off thdr heads with gratitude to any maa who 
will marry them : and it is extremely bad for the 
man. 

tolT^VTiT """I'' ?*'' y°" *"* *''« ""rt of woman 
to be grateful to any lucky beggar who was so fortuna'e 
as to many you." said Charlie, witii a brave attempt to 
be jocular, *^ 

"I am not" 

Charles. Again he changed the subject 

" I say, Fabia. don't you think we ought to do some- 
thing for that poor little woman, to make things a bit 
easier for her? Especially now the mater is «, busy 
and cant see after her." ^' 

CharUe had inherited much of his mother's kindness 
of neart 

Fabia looked up languidly. 

- What sort of a thing? Find her another husband 
do you mean ? " she asked. •"-"•a, 

"Oh, Fabia I" Charlie was really shocked. "By 
Jove, no I She isn't that sort You talk as if husbands 
were like footmen; so that if one doesn't suit the 

«i^**°'/?" "" **'""'»» ^'^ *"<> set another." 
That is how I r«^ard them." 

Charlie was positively helpless. 
"But what about marriage-vows, and 'till death ua 
do part, and things of that kind ? " he argued. 
" I do not believe in them." 

e.IL"'': '^ 5'''* ^" »''°"'«* J"« »»ve heard my 

slTlt «!1*^* "f"'"*"' *"** •" *•* »rt of thing I 
He'd got mort tremendous notions about the sanctity ol 
It, and everytiiing in that line, don't you know ? " 

rL*^L"^^**^*- J°""'»"ri«Iyo«r&th«.- 
Charlie kioked puuled. —"«. 



«s» 



5n StAiectlon 



*0r course not ; you couldnt have done, as he was 
married long before either you were bora" 

"Which was his misfortune," added Fabia. 

" I say, darling, I wish you wouldn't say flippant things. 
I d«it like if 

"Not like me to commiserate your father's ill-luck? 
How very peculiar of you ! Men generally like their 
family misfortunes to be deplored." 

Fabia's smile was distinctly impertinent ; but all the 
same, she felt a faint gliipmering of respect for a husband 
who had the courage to admit that there was anything 
about his wife that he did not like. 

But the ill-starred Charlie rapidly extinguished that 
faint glimmer. 

"Not in that way, my pet: I'm sure the mater 
wouldn't approve of it; so don't do it, there's a good 
girll" 

Fabia shrugged her shoulders. How could she 
respect a husband who was always bolstering up 
his marital authority by quotations from his female 
parent? 

" fly point is," continued the well-meaning blunderer, 
"that my &ther was a married man himself, don't you 
know ? " 

"Well?" There was a volume of scorn in the 
monosyllable. 

" Fabia, dont be stupid, diere's a good (Md t What 
I mean is, that being a married man hiimelf, he knew 
what he was talkii^ about" 

"And the fact that he was married— and married as 

he was — makes his opinion up«i the indissatubtlity of 

marriage all tbe more valuable — and remarkable. 

There I agree wWi you." 

Although, in her way, Fabia bad a nJBffiT rc i pfrt 



Ube Besintuite or vronNe 153 

for her mothtr-fa-Uw, she could imagin* that u 
eternity ipent in that lady's aociety would not appear 
short ri— — 

"He had most awfully fine notions about marriam 
about its being • for better for worse ' and ' for richer for 
poorer,' and all that, don't you know?" continued 
Charlie. 

" He didn't know much about ' for poorer,' did he ? " 

T^ 'STu"?*- "°^ ^"''^ •>«' He "d «y 
mother both had very tidy fortunes, as well as the 

Gaythome estates f " In vain poor Charlie endeavoured 

to follow the intricate workings of his wife's mind. 

"Then his opinions did not count for much after aH, 
It is when you come to ■ for worse ' and « for poorer ' that 
the dioe b^ins to pinch. Many married people can 
^ the strain of'for better' and 'for richer '-though 
that b no slight one at times, I admit" 

-Oh I Fabia, I don't know about that Look at 
lore In a cottage and all that kind of thing. Heaps 
of people are most awfully keen on it" 

"I never was in love and I never was in a cottage- 
so I cannot form an opinion upon the advantages and 
disadvantages of either." 

Charlie's face went very ted, but he was too much 

]^J!l?^i° ,T ^\^:^F"- " » '^h you «», in love. 
Fabia, he said pleadingly. 

His Wife laughed lightly. 

- It might be rather unpleasant for you if I weivl 
But it Is really v«y unselfish of you to put my pleasure 
before yonn in this way," she aaid. ri-cMore 

" I mean in love with me." 

Fabia laughed agaia "What an ideal It I. «,ult« 

*^K°"L /*^^" *"** * '^■" to be in love with her 
owahasband. OfcoHtse,aper»nlike JanetCarr Is; ft 



»$4 



9n SnMectton 



M 



fa Juit put u4 parcel of her general dowdlnew. I 
thought you hated dowdy women." 

H So I do; I detest the Sight of them." 

"Then there is nothing dowdier than to be in love 
li? ""e'fown husband It is on a par with a shawl 
JJKl^nglet^ and a white camellia fastened by the 

Charlie Iooked-«s he felt-veiy miserable. He knew 
that his own views were right and his wife's wrong: 
and he also knew tha^ he wai not clever enoueh to 
demonstrate either of these propositions. So he took 
refuge in an illustration: the safest resource for all 
those not gifted in argument 

"Isabel Seaton is not dowdy, and she is in love with 
her own husband." he said. 

-That is so: but Isabel is an exception-*) that as 
to every rule." 

Since her mairiage, Fabia had learnt to appreciate 

A ««,!?k" m*"" ^ ""'*' appreciated her before. 
A friendship between a married woman and a sinele 
one is nudy successful, unless it dates from pre- 
matrimonial days. The husband and the confidential 
fnend are not often compatible ingredients. 

place and normal and natural, and aU that sort of thine, 
don't you know ? " Chariie persisted. 

" Of course she does : that is where she shows het»eli 
Sfn*!rS^f°"'^ " ^ ?f """-np'-" people who 

?Jtw ' "u'**"^ " they lo«j. I n««l to be 
Uke that myself at one time, till I learnt from Isabel 
how very commonplace it wasi" 



-"' " I l l 



TTbe Seotnnfnfl or Vronble 



•55 

Men are y«y Uke children in one respect- thev 
*lw.y. get hold of the le«t important part Ktoy S 
a conw«tion. ud fix .11 their tttenUon upon thaf to 

I A "!)^ f '"*"*' "'°''«*'* tl"* nobody ever loved as 
" JLn wt" '^' '"'• '"P^'"" **"eht me what 

thi'f^!!!'** """"^ •* P"^y ""*• 'f «»'« h""! you say 
that she was an exception." j- » »/ 

Fabia smiled. 

Jrl^^'V^"^ ^'^ li very fond Of calling henelf 
normal and commonplace; but I doubt if she wwSd 

tnTl'l^i" "- ''-'' -'^"^ "" '^■ 

.J.H^'Iiuf"^'!!"' ' r" ""'* ^y that she is jolly 
smart, taking her all round, and that she is in love 

;;iis'Si„r ''"^'■" "^^'^ ^'-^^' ^^!^i 

.lJivsTt^'2:? ^"^ ^ ''°"''" '» >*• M'- Seaton 
"H^?£f^J^ ?V" "t^'nely dull pcr«,n.» 
He fa *e sort of chap that wouldn't care a rap how 

wiie lilted him, said Charlie, speaking truth. 

«!,„ " ' /".*"" '***'" *hy I d'sl'ke him. Men 

knZ r ^ ""«y ""<* 1" love with mine, heaven 
^JX^"""' ^"'*'-^" «« "«t " «cepUon to 



•s« 



fn Sv^KctfM 



The mem went hoine; Clurlie got op ftom U> 
dufr and walked towaidt the door. 

j-1! *"?• ^'^ youw^^WttoohMdapooapoor 

Httven knowi I do all In my power to plea* yon and 
make you happy: and yet the more hi doe. fo, you 
the more you seem to dcnrfse and hate a fellow I Whtf 

."^i^iSr- ~'' *'" "" '*'' "* '"** »~» ~ " 

And poor Charlie went oat of the room, banrine the 
dded within henelf that unk»s some new Interest or 

•he^d die of ennui So she made harte to write 
to her cousin, Ram Chandar. 



CHAPTER XVIII 



DB. linXHAItJI 

Early In the spring « conridemWe Mnntion w.. 
^t^ln the f.rfUon.ble world by T M«^ 
(Kcu^tirt whoset ap . sort of ,<«,ce In « mMatt 

consulted ciyittls, cured nervous disorders and 

kind. With that piusion for tnythlng absolutely new 

Sn-^""''".^ characterise, the denl^n, of 
i^ ll^' -it characterised the denizens of 
S^J^'-,^. '* •*^« *^« »°de to run aft« 
S'aJSS™"^* •"«« to accept with fdth and hunSS 
^i^S^J^tm "'^ "** "• emendatloS 

Xtrdrri-sr"coS:^:sri:r 

but .t happened that he was not that way InchnS^L' 
he contented himself with teachW .Lrt '?„'-!! 

IT^' J-lJo-Theo.oT^Sd^e.'SijI; 
with certain embroideries from the occult 



/' 



/ 



••• 5n Sttbfectton 

are ; they hesitate before giving up the Word which 
hu been a lantern unto their feet, in favour of aome 
new fad in electric lighting. Theiefoie women crowded 
to the little flat in Mount Street, and confided their 
respective pasU to Dr. Mukhaiji; on condition that 
he would in return confide to them their i«spective 
futures. *^ 

Many silly women were led captive by the strange 
devices of the occultist; but none attended his rooms 
fa Mount Street with such frequency and regularity m 
Fabta ; so much so that eite long scandal began to busy 
itself with the names of Dr. Mukhaiji and Mrs. Charln 
Gaythome, and to hint very unpleasant things con- 
eeming that lady's repwited vlsiu to the Oriental 
fortune-teller. 

Then at last Isabel Seatoo broke through her rule 
and faterfered. 

» "JV! ?°* »«n«tWng rather horrid to say to yon, 
Fabia,- she began: " I hate saying it and you'll hate 
heanng It, but it has got to be said, so here goes." 
u^'J^. *''^ *^y " at aU?" Fabia faterrupted her. 

If neither you nor I will derive any pleasure from 
the communication, why impart it?" 

"Because my conscience insists upon it: and my 
conscience so rarely mentions anything or makes itself 
in any way troublesome, that I hardly like to refuse it 
on the rare occasions when it does." 

"Yours certainly Is not an importunate conscience," 
Fabia admitted, with her languid smile 

"No^ it Isn't Its worst enemy couldnt call It a 
chatfy sort of eonsdenoe, for it hardly ever speaks. 
From week's end to week's end I dont hear Its voice. 
Therefore when it does begin to whisper I feel bound 
to hsten to it as I certainly shouldn't do if It woe oat 



9t, ttakbnii ,„ 

•f thoje Ur«ome, gwrulou. con«:iences which never 

new F«uli I The thing cant hold iu toneue for «« 
"'""^ toB^er. but i. .Iwy. poWng ItTJoS fate 
matters that dont concern if- * ^ '°'° 

had, It begins grumbling and spluttering like an infuri 
JS TIT *'" "i "\""' " '"' '-=°-« burdens to i 

Sf.w ? ~'" "«'^«y i" motion. UnfortunawJ 
Si L",*!!* "" ""^'^ '>"»'»°d that he .har«^^ 
^'4 al« i rJ""" *° "^ conKlcntior^S^: 

"Poor Isabel r 

„. ^"* ^"* *" envy nther than pity in Fabla's ton* 
She could not help feeling the cont^TlStwS I«S^ 
halM-ughing and wholly devoted tStuST^Ii 

SS r"*' '^ "T"^ ''"'"«»» of ber o^'^tiot 
^tt Charhe She despised him fa, too much to U^h 

nsITJ^J"* ^ '^, ""^«*'' I»bel continued. -I 



•*• fn Unbtteaon 

round the neck of the cnttnre oa Iti nla d^n. 
•nd fe domi alongride of my hnsbuid whUe it play, 
the slddy Juggenunt over our pnwtrate bodlea Bdieve 
m«j my deer, a husband with a ooudence b no Jolce I " 
Yet I can imagine that a huilMuid without a 
eonidence would be itill leu of one" 

"Far Iom: thafa the difficulty! But w* have 
wandend to «y Moved hu.b«,d'. cowd-icit whilS 
the convemtion began about mine." 

.n7 ^IH!" ri."" *•» y?un wai not of the white buU 
and white elephant ipedet r' 

FaWa endeavoured once more to stave off what she 
guessed was coming, although she knew that this 
procrastination would have no eflfect in the long run. 

?! « "'J?''* !!°* ** *• ••''«* '» ""^ "«thod» " was 
o^d Mrs. Gaythome ; but she invariably arrived linaUy 
at the point from which she had started. 

"Not it: it is more like the War Office, or the Local 
Government Board : never Interferes until it is too late 

uT't *"y*""«' "n** WW locks a suble^loor until 
all the horses have died of typhoid." 

" A convenient sort of conscience to keep I " 
•Very .and veo^ little expense. But just now It is 
«o noisy in clamouring for a new lock on the emotv 
stable-door that I've no option but to listen to it Fabia 
you are going too oiten to see that horrid cousin of 
yours, Ram Chandar Mukharji. People are talking 
about it— and about you I" «« wiiung 

Fabia smiled scornfully. « Let them talk I " 

fi,!?"!^ '^K i?'" *!?"'• J*"* ^•'■* ^ «^°°'t »"»» to let 
them do: talking is a most hurtful and dangerous 
practice. 

ollJdw""'** **" "'"* *^^ "^ *'~''* »• "d Ram 



"But yon ought to can, my dor Fabla : roa radlv 
SSLLfJ.*? *Sl^'r"^ •* *"" go D.«l when h. bUn 

SLii ^ L"?'* """=»™' ''"' *^f » thing 
««t«lly»thoughofooHr« not till b„g afte. ev«y- 

"Idonotewe,- Ptbta repwited. 
You ought never to h«ve let that tlro^mc cr-u,fn of 

WM out then ytm ago. ud thought him a met wdrd 
wdnn«nnypenon. Tm .«« Charlie wouldn't approS 

•nddWiwn from what they learned at their mother? 
^T'-.»w **^PP~*«» «»>°«t frightfully of anything 
to do with occultl«n and viritualfam. and thing. 52 
!^J^r^ let him know how IntenSy they 

to Mount Street or not It linobudneMofhla- 
Stem dini,pfoval looked out of Mr* Soiton'i blue 

HlrI25:M*^'^»°'^** ofyou tofpeakofyonrhuaband 
Ikethatl Why.lfPauldlMppromofanybody.ltalwwS 

then: and If he dliappiorei of my doing things. I m^ 

o^^ „r V^ "?*" "^*^ ^^^ "king him hi. 
opinion of tUng. and people, for fea, he .hould .pdl 
my plearore In them for the fntuw- ^^ 

Agiim the Komfol smile curled FaUa'. Ho- 
H« il*^" "•"y Joved him a. much a. you thhikyon 
do.^u would obey him in the spirit ..l^iu .itX 



a6a 



9n Snbfectloti 



■:,' ' 



fhif^*'" '^.r? '°" >^"' '>«^ '* frequently follows 
that you win a ,0 ,o« your head." perSed FLr 

r«rely mislay It, but generally carry ft about with m. 

bancs on it whenever I think fit" '^ 

^ Well, Isabel, you must admit that your hushanH'. 

Z'SZT ^'^ r™ -«««?" with'-JiiSv^ 

"V husband's would: therefore you cannot wc ±7^ 

mihf- ''' r.,*^"""* ^ • ">»°"« ^Wch in a les. 

S a"'w.'''"'"«^""«^ "•*~« -°'"<J have b^ 

"But I am affected by Paul's opinions even when I 

about, and that they aren't worth the breath in which 

married comes in ! " j "• i-wug 

"And yet you say you are not a fool ? » 

Certainly: because I know that I am: and to be 

wise enough to know that you are . fool fa ««rf 

positive that you are not one." ' '^^ 

^uddenly Fabia's conversation took a de.pe«f 

"Oh, Isabel, you have no idea how awfully dull ft u 



l>r, Ankbam tej 

to be married to « man like Oiarlie I I've borne it as 
ong as I can. and I don't feel as if I co«ld S it an^ 

* dever man, to preach about the doe subjection of a 
wife : but you would sing a different tui-e if you were 
married to a well-meaning goose." ^ 

«e!^'?„-?"~AJ"'"?~*^ "I don't think sa I rf,ould 
nwer find out tiiat he wa. a goose if I wew in love with 

2SI, m' *k *^'* •■ '" *■"* ^ """^ «rtain people 
consider him so ; but to me he is the one supremely faSr- 

fSu '*?:!i?'"'"*^-*"' °"« .ufBciSTand ;S. 

1„? B ^* ^".^ ^*^ "P"" *^« »«" burning ques- 
tion. But that isn't ctereme.., bleM you llit. 

JISHaJT. '^ Vr^T^ ^^^^' y-" '^ I never 
pretended to be. That i. where the tragedy of my life 

TdSiL " -"y'"-^^' then^^ltyJhing'rS 

It was on the tip of Isabel's tongue to sav "Then 

to usually somnolent conscience showed signs of vigour. 
Had die not done all in her power to Wng ^^ 
^^ ^"" ^"^ "^ Charlie GaythLe; anJ 
Zn^ir^ ''"^ «pondbUlty of their unhappy 

Fabia went on somewhat pathetically : 
-..J.!?.**"'"** '"^''» '^* horriUy dull ft ii to be 

grt so deadly ti.«l of hi. anecdotes. I believe that ul 
woman i«,'t in love with her husband. dM coS bij 



•64 



5tt Sabjectfon 



■inythlng— even his n^Iect or hit downright cnielty— 
better than his anecdotes." 

"You didn't object to Chariie'i anecdotes so much 
before you married him ; and I'm sure you heard them 
all then, to you knew exactly what they were about 
You manied with your eara open." 

"I know I did ; but things sound so diflcrent before 
and after marriage, A man may be an admirable 
pastime but on extremely poor profession. He may 
excel as a recreation but become wearisome as a duty, 
He may prcve delightful aiaaAors tPemvr*, but deadly 
as mpiici d* rtsittana." 

"Fabia, yon really ought not to discuss your husband 
with another woman in this fashion," said Isabel 
reprovingly; then—having satisfied her awakening 
conscience— «he added: "What anecdote of Charlie's 
is it that bores you most?" 

"There are several of them that almoat kill me with 
exhaustioa No harm in them, you know, but as long 
and pointless as a darning-needle. And nearly always 
about his parents ; so dutiful and yet so duU I I think, 
however, the story that wearies me most is about Mrs. 
Gaythome and a harvest-thanksgiving. It lasto for 
ages, and always requires a book-marker." 

"I know it," replied Isabel sympathetically. 

"You must, if you know Charlie I Well. I am new 
twenty-three years old and Charlie twenty-six, so we 
ihall in all probability have about another half century 
of each other's society ; and just think how often during 
that time I shall hear the stoiy of Mrs. Gaythoror; 
and the harvest-thanksgiving I It is appalline to 
contemplate!" 

"It is like thinking of eternity or climbing up a 
winding staircase- no end and no banning I" 



ihr. Atikbmii 365 

"I nippose, however," Fabia continued, "that in the 
most favourable circumstances marriage, hke politics 
IS dM science of the second-best, and it is absurd t^ 
expect the ideal in it" 

« Not a bit of it," retorted Isabel, with some heat :" it 
it either the height of bliss or else the depth of boredom. 
It is the very opposite of the second-best, as it must be 
t^ very best or the very worst A husband is either 
the one man in the world, or else the one man that you 
wish wasn't in the world ; there is no ' happy mean ' ia 
matrimony." ^^ 

"Well. Isabel, I should have been abundanti? 
satisfied with the second-best, if only I could haw 
secured it" And there was a wistful sound in the 
sweet voice. 

"Second-best indeed I" retorted Mrs. Seaton, tossing 
her head. « And yet I must admit," she added, with a 
humorous twinkle, "that a gopd many men like their 
second best" 

FaWa agreed with her. "That is so; I fancy that my 
late respected papa-in-law would have been among that 
number if only he had had the chance." 

"Paul won't," remarked Paul's first, with much 
decision in her tone. 

"You would hate to think that he could ever have a 
second, wouldn't you t " 

-Not I," replied Isabel airily. " I'm not that selfish, 
dog-in-the-manger sort of a woman! I've told Paul 
over aadover again that if anything happens to me he 
IS at bberty to marry again as soon as he likes. Of 
course he'll find any other woman awfully dull after me, 
but I can't help that: he must taU the rough with the 
smooth and the dull with the lively, as other much 
married men have had to do. from Henry th« Eighth 



166 



9n SntfecHon 



downwwnh. It is unreasonable of any man to expect 
to get all his wives cast in the same mould I " 

And thua— having shot her arrow and given her hint 
—Isabel wandered ofT into indifferent subjects. She 
had learnt the great social art of punctuation— she 
knew when to stop; and was far too clever a woman 
to indulge in the unpardonable practice known as 
"rubbing it in." 

But in spite of Mrs. Seaton's well-timed word of 
warning, Fabia continued to visit the small ilat in 
Mount Street far oftener than was wise or desirable 
She was constantly seen gMng in and out, and people 
talked more than ever in consequence. In time this 
gossip reached the ears of Captain Gaythome; but he 
made no sign. He was the sort of man who would 6nd 
It impossible to speak to his wife upon such a subject as 
this: his innate chivahy revolted at the mere idea. 
But although he was slow to speak and slow to 
wrath m his dealings with women, he was neither 
the one nor the other In his dealings with his 
own sex; and he made np his mind that if things 
continued to go on like this, it would not be long 
before Dr. Mukharji had a very bad quarter of an hour 
indeed. 

Charlie Gaythome m^ht be afraid to scoM his wife • 
but he was not at all afraid to give his wife's cousin a 
sound horse-whipping ; and he intended to do so at the 
earliest (^>portunity. 

Isabel, finding that her hint to Fabia had been of no 
avail, decided, with characteristic courage, to tackle the 
occultist himself upon the subject She was still firmly 
•et against speaking to Charlie. Although she knew 
too much about men to suppose for an instant that they 
■re as Uind as they frequently, in their mysterious 



9t, OMOmit t^ 

J?*^' ^"^,*2 ^ »'••' neverthelesi lecognized the 
but possibility of Captain Gaythome-s befagM ignorant 
cJ^F^ja's goings-on as he appeared; and fa ^^ 
•he felt die would rather die than be the instrument 
«npIoyed to open his mercifully-dosed eyelids. There- 
fore-iaving taken the wise and wifely precaution of 
not mentiomng to her husband beforehand what she 
uitraded to do. lest he should see fit to forbid the same 
-Mrs. Paul Seaton joined herself to the multitude of 
silly women who were being led astray by the false 
doctnne, of Dr. Mukharji. and presented h^self at the 
door of the flat in Mount Street 

Ji^^ *f 'l"^ *°V* * *«i«ng-room tastily though 
•cantily furnished, and already half full of fashionably, 
dressed women. To her profound relief there w«e 

fi!?\ u?r '*'* ^^ '"°*° *» •>«' personally, 
though she knew one or two quite well by sight; and 
MS **J»d added to her toilet a thick moto^veil, 
she cherished vam hopes that no one would recogni« 

"It^ a good thfag that I put on a motor-veil like 
Uie ostnch and so am invirible." she said to herself- 

though I m convincwl that some of these horrid old 
cats will know who I am all the same, and talk about it 

I .!. «f ^ ~""** *° P»">- But that won't matter, as I 
•hall tell him myself at the proper time, when it is too 
late for him to prevent my coming. Fortunately it is 

!S°.w **" *^ **""*• ""* "•^ »~ ^ to '■«»ive; 
and that 18 the p8ychok)gical moment for makine 
confessions to a husband 1 " 

Mw. Seaton had plenty of time for meditation aa she 
r ;^*t^u ?■;«*«»»«» ^'m »«mmoned one by one 
by Dr Mukhaoi's ffle»«nger : but at last her turn come • 
and she then wia ushered, by a dosely-veiled femaki 



t6S 



Sn SiAftctfon 






•ttendant In gorgaous native dress, Into the presence of 
the popular charlatan. 

Isabel thoui^t him looking much older than when 
last she saw him, In those fu^ff, pre-nuptial days 
when she was living with the Parleys: but that was 
hardly to be wondered at ; as she herself had then been 
In the early dawn of the twenUes, and now she was fast 
coming within sight of her fortieth milestone. There 
was no doubt that she did not look as young now as she 
had looked then ; but she took the flattering unction to 
her soul, which we all take when we meet friends and 
acquaintances whom we have not seen for several years • 
namely, that though we may have aged a little, thw 
have aged much more. And there was more ground 
for Isabel's assumption than there frequently is in such 
circumstances: Ram Chandar had certainly altered 
more than she In the long years since they had met 
In the first place he was no longer clean-shaven, but 
a long black beard protected his chest from the inclem- 
encies of the English climate ; and a beard always ages 
?_,,?"*• ^"* his dark ayes retained their youthful 
hrilliaacy; and his hands, as small and delicate 
as a woman's, testified as of yore to the highly, 
strung, nervous temperament concealed under his 
manner of apparently immutable calm. He had not 
adopted the good old English custom of measuring 
the flight of time by the weights of avoirdupois : on tiw 
contrary, he looked if ponibJe slimmer and slighter than 
he used to do, and had k>st none of his Eastern 
panther-like grace; ' 

"So you also ase among my disciples, Mrs. Seaton, 
as I also am among tiie prophets?" he said, as he 
advanced to meet his visitor, whom he recognised at 
once m spite of her attempted disguise. 



Vc; Attftbmi 



•«9 



He wu amoed at her coming to consult him, and he 
■hewed h; he wm fiilly aware of Panl Seaton's uncom- 
promising hostility towards everything connected with 
occultism ; and anything in the form of wifely insub> 
ordination tickled his sense of humour. 

Finding her incognito thus ruthlessly thrust aside, the 
ostrich threw back her inadequate disguise somewhat 
haughtily. 

"I have hardly come to ask advice^ Dr. Mukharji, 
but rather to administer It." 

" Pray be seated," he said, in his soft, Oriental voice, 
placing a chair for Mrs. Seaton. 

" I shall not detain you long," Isabel began ; and her 
manner was that of the grand* dame, which she could 
assume when she thought it necessary and worth the 
trouble. " But I have just one thing to say to yon." 

" Hoarding your future ? * 

"No; regarding yours." 

The occultist bowed politely. 

"I await your instructions, Mrs. Seaton. It is an 
agreeable change for me to take the rdle of learner 
instead of that of teacher." How like his voice was 
to Fabia's I 

" I have come to speak to yon, Dr. Mukharji, about 
my friend and your cousin, Mrs. Charles Gaythome." 

Again Mukharji bowed. ". An ever-interesting subject 
to me." 

" You are doubtless unaware," continued Isabel, more 
stately than ever, "that unpleasant remarks are being 
made about jrour cousin's too frequent visits to your 
house. I gave her a hint upon the subject, but with no 
avail : she is still so young that she hardly realizes how 
dangerous it is to bring down scandal even upon the 
most undeserving head. But you and I are older than 



11 



•»• SiiMAfcctiM 

Ae. Dr Mukh«jl. .„d w. unde«t.i„l how much h«m 

uk vnn ♦- u^ be , and I therefora come to you to 

vWt. to you, both u nguA, length and numbw^ 
^njocWjg „U. Ut up the daHc^^. ^rj^^ 

" I aee: you make u app-^i to me to rive un »h. 

Crtalny you have great confidence In your vowlTot 
J-J^abte . poaseMion a. ^limited confid«,ce in you!! 
Iiabel threw back her head haughtily. 

^ ^njtf^ condemned « ri«Tlow .^ 
iSL^t^S" " "*^'' .ccomplished 

.."nS^4;t:;';r*-''^'«» <«« come to «y 

"Menly to inform you that maUdoui goftip I, 



vr. AMkbarll 



•7» 



your name with that of youf 



be^nning to couple 
cousin." 

" And did you auppoM I did not know that already f " 

"Your conduct in allowing her to continue her viaiti. 
proved conclusively that you did not" 

" So you took the trouble to come here In the midst 
of your busy Ufe to enU«;hten an ignorance which had 
no existence save in your own mind ? " 

" Your supposed ijmorance did not originate In my 
mind, but in your manner, Dr. Mukharji. I had no 
alternative but to believe that you were unconscious 
that Fabia's visits here were doing her harm, as 
otherwise you would have declined to receive her" 

" You flatter me, Mrs. Seaton." 

" If you consider It flattoy to take you for a gentle- 
man, I do," replied the undaunted Isabel, rising from her 
seat "And now, having said what I came to say 
there is nothing left to say but good morning." 

But the fortune-teller was not going to let her tacAot 
so easily. "^ 

•' Stop a minute, Mrs. Seaton ; not so fast Now that 
we have disposed of my cousin Fabia's affairs, would it 
not interest you to hear something about your own t" 
"Not at all, thank you," conscientiously lied IsabeL 
If there was one thing she would have loved more 
ftan another It was to have her future foretold by the 
Eastern seer; but she knew that her husband profoundly 
disapproved of all such dabblings hi the unseen ; so she 
forebore. 

_:ii\*',.,'^'l"** **" *° ''"*"' "'^•t Office Mr. Seaton 
will hold m the next Cabinet, or whether he will hold 
any office at all ? You are Indeed curiously lacklne in 
curiosity!" ' -v»uig m 

Isabel was sorely tempted, yet she still withstood 



•»• 



9n Mntfecttan 



Dot tretpui oo 



your Hmt to tkr, Dr. 
Yoa 



"I wni 

MuUuuji.' 

.Jf!^ ^' ''"'^<* •»» 'orWdden It I mt. 
•« fade*! . wMely wife, Mr.. Setton I" 

iMbe did not deig:n to make any reply to thk • !».♦ 
•he could not fell to feel tlw» JT.T: '.!?.' °°* 

intellgence? Do you not think that in a mtt*,^ 
" 'W^wherein. If you will pernSt J^ I Tl^ 
JThSer^SThr '^"* ? J-^Tthrhe^iSt^; 
;K-" ""•*'"* "«««.n.ble «id arblt-J 
"I ndther disobey nor dbeoss my hoiband D, 
Mukhaql .. so I c«, only bid you good SorainV? 'iS' 
Isa W .wept out of the room withihe air 7^'ott^ 

--rt'ti^ «^ 'il!l^ ^" *' "=«="'«•* ''"ffhed "loud. 
To think of a brilliant woman like that subjectin^w 

wonderful and remarkable creature I" 
Isabel at once confessed to her husband wham .h. 

heard it mooted It was not SS STwII ^^h^k " 
husband. but that .h.wa..fr.i?Str:^3'i.:[S: 



not Paal, who wonM b. ^UlT^ILSThJ oSleiS 

ZSJS^ Sorfie«I.pt«dh«.elftowh.tshe 
oommMdoent from being a»de untfl ft wu Jfrcdy 
Paul, for hit ptrt, wu imfflenwiy amused at th« 
coasMtt ft politic to let that lady know how muS 
SS.^tS^."-*^"^-"''- "P«HencJL"1 

t«!^'S^ii^K'!?l"'"'^ '^**'°» ^ ^ ^hen die 

J^^«^"w^'"."^'«"''' ««">«««• He 
WM not an Englirii gentleman, and he did not behav. 
« .uch: in .pite of I«ber. appeal to him. fJE 
ftSen^ ~°*^"** *'*^ undi;alni.hed 

TOoufie to her dtnur rmrt and to ipeak to Charlie. 
G«»Ipwa. making «i«with the nam^of FaS^d 
to co^ : „d the „owbdl of .eandal inaSid iS 

^»n. u, ^ P""^ "•«'•"• •»«» "<>« than OK. 

d.fUL^r'Ti Jjlf*.****" *^° »" <>«•' with him at 
KWhu, bat he wa. a gentleman-quite a. good a thine 

n2ii!^«n J5"* *•.' *«»**«^» fi^masonry among 
reaUy weU-b«d people: they know the rul« of th! 



MKROCOTY MMUJTION TIST CHART 

(ANSI ond ISO TiST CHART No. 2) 




\i& 


1^ 




|M 


lis 


■ 2.0 



1^1^ l;^ 




APPLIED ItVMGE Inc 

)6S3 Eott Hoin Strwt 

ftochmtar. N«w York 14609 USA 

(716) 4«2 - 0300 - Phon. 

(7)6) 288- 3989 -ra« 



»74 



9n 9«»iectleii 



game: and are u slow to give or take oflmce at tbey 
are quick to give or take a hint TIm art at taking a 
hint is a fine art : the art of taking ofienoe a debased 
one. Therefore all that Isabel did was to remark airily 
one day in the middle of a oonvarsatiaa with Captain 
Gajrthome- 

"By the way, Charlie, don't you think that FaWa is 
looking rather pale and overdone ? Why don't you take 
her fi>r a run over to Paris at WhiUuntide? The 
London season is a trying time for iinirasoncd 
Londoners; and FaUa is new to the inhalatioa of 
wood-pavements as yd" 

Charlie knew in a minute exactly what she meant : 
and was grateiU to her Cor saying it and for not saying 
it But aU he replied was : " That's not a bad idei^ by 
Jovel not a bad idea at aU I I call It a rippins 
good one." *^^^ 

"I should dopt it then, if I were you," Isabel 
continued, ".m sure it would do Fabia good. 
And you wouldn't miss much, as thet« u never 
anything going on in town at WhitsunUde. I think 
this is a trying sort of season, the hot weather began so 
soon and so suddenly: March came In like an Arctic 
sea-lioo, and went out Uke a hot roast lamb. A coW in 
the head tied me by the lex, so to speak, at Easter, and 
we couldn't get away then at all ; so I've penuaded Paul 
to take me for a good long holiday at Whitsuntide and 
I sh(K.ld advise you and Fabia to do the same." 

"But I thought that those Gk>vemment fellows had 
to keep their noses to the grindstone, don't you know ? " 
retorted CharUe, as airily as Isabel heisel£ "So how 
will Sea^n be able to get away on the spree 7 " 

"WeU, you see, the grindstone won't be turning 
dnifog the Whitsuntide recess, so no noses will be 



Dr. AaRbnrlt »js 

reqnired : and after that I shall make him find some 
Coiuervative nose which— lik« 'Charlie's aunt'— is 
' still running,' and pair with it for another week or so." 

" I'll bet you five to one that the Whips won't let him 
off with the present Government in such a hole." 

" Oh I they wia I know them." 

"They won't; especially now that the present 
Ministry is in such a bad way that it may smash up 
at any moment" 

Isabel shook her head with her wisest air as she replied : 

"Not it: it is feeble and effete, I admit, but it is a 
chronk: case— not a ^^ngerous one. Nurses always 
n^ect chronic cases because they are so boring and 
tiresome; and Members of Parliament do the same." 

Thus Isabel conveyed to Charlie that it was his duty 
to take his wife out of danger as soon as he could, the 
only possible refuge being in flight: and Captain 
Gaythome thanked her for her solution of the difficulty, 
and decided to adopt it: and yet neither of them had 
mentioned either ths nature of the difficulty or the 
detested name of Bam Chandar MukharjL 






CHAPTER XIX 

WHAT HAPPENED IN PARIS 

The Gaythoraes were abroad for the best part of a 
month, and did not come back until the leafy month of 
June was dtxidedly /atsJ. Charlie would have liked to 
stoy away still longer, but Fsbia was so tired of the 
solitudt d diMX that she insisted on bringing their sUy 
m Paris to a close, as they had seen but few people 
whom she knew and none who amused her. 

It was a noteworthy fact, and one which set the 
tongues of gossip wagging faster than ever, that Dr 
Mukharji left town when the Gaythomes did, and did 
not come back to his flat until after their return ; thus 
proving conclusively to all the scandal - mongers 
mterested in the matter, that his object in coming 
to London was not to tell the fortunes of ladies in general, 
but to have the spending of Fabia's in particular— not 
to divulge the futures of his numerous cOeMtiU, but to 
destroy that of Mrs. Charles Gaythorne. 

On the evening of their return, Charlie and his wife 
were dining in their own house in town, old Mrs. 
(^ythome having foregone a meeting in order to have 
dinner with her son and daughter-in-law, and welcome 
them back to their native shores. When dessert was on 
the table, and the servants had left the room, Fabia 
suddenly interrupted tbt stream of unmemorable odd- 
versation by saying: 

•7« 



VBbat Dtweneb in Paris 



•77 



you think we mw in Paris. Mrs. 



"Whom do 
Gaythorne?" 

"Somebody who had better have sUyed at home 
I have no doubt" 

Mr«. Gaythome highly disapproved of foreign travel 

" We saw Gabriel Carr," said Fabia quietly. 

The bomb-shell took full effect The elder lady 
iairly bounced in her chair. 

" I cannot believe it I " she exclaimed. « Surely you 
are trifling with me." 

" No, I am not; I only wish, for Janefs sake, that I 
were." » 

"Charles, is this true?" asked Mrs. Gaythome, 
turning for confirmation to that son whom she had 
never known from his childhood to tell a lie. 

"Yes, mother; as true as "ospeL As Fabia says, 
I wish to goodness that it » , /t, for poor little Janet's 
sake ; but it is, worse luck I " 

" Describe the circumstances," was Mrs. Gaythorne's 
next command. 

« Tell the mater all about it," said Charlie to his wife ; 
"you're a much better hand at reeling off a yam than 
I am." 

Fabia, thus adjured, began : 

"When we were in Paris we often went to the 
theatre, as we found it so ycty dull in our own sitting- 
room at the hotel." 

" Which you ought not to have done," her mother- 
in-law interrupted her. « Mr. Gaythome and I never 
found it dull wherever we were. I had my Committees 
as perennial sources of interest, and he had Me." 

Mrs. Gaythome, when referring to herself, always 
emphasised the personal pronoun as if the other cases, 
as well as the nominative, began with a capital letter. 



m 



«7«> 



9n Sub/ectton 



"Of course; but Charlie and I are different," replied 
Fabia sweetly : as indeed tliey were. " Mr. Gaythome 
wisely allowed his wife to enjoy herself in her own 
way ; but unfortunately his son does not follow his 
example." 

" We will leave Mr. Gaythome for the present and 
return to Gabriel Carr. Where did you see him, and 
what did he say, and what excuse did he give for his 
extraordinary behaviour ? " 

Mrs. Gaythome practised to full perfection the art 
of keeping to the point' 

" Well," continued Fabia, " one night when we were 
in a theatre, whom should we see in a box opposite to 
us but Gabriel Carr ? " 

"At a theatre— and a French theatre too— and he 
a clergyman I I cannot believe it ! You must have 
been mistaken." 

" But unfortunately we were not," said Charlie. " I 
saw him as plain as I see you now. But he was aged 
a bit, as the sort of life he is leading leaves its mark 
on a man, don't you know ? " 

" I know nothing of the kind, Charles I Proceed with 
your narrative, Fabia." 

" As Charlie says, he was aged, and he had a worn 
and dissipated look ; but we both recognized him in an 
instant. And although he looked older, he was just as 
handsome as ever," Fabia continued. 

" Handsome is as handsome does ; and therefore I 
cannot call any man handsome who deserts his wife on 
her honeymoon, and then hides himself in the city of 
Babylon," remarked Mrs. Gaythome, not without some 
reason on her side. 

" He didn't behave handsomely, I admit ; but he is a 
jolly good-looKing fellow, all the same, and always will 



TObat Dappeneb in l^arfs 



»79 



I 



be," said Charlie, echoing both his wife and his mothei 
as usual. *' But never mind his looks. Fire away with 
the story, there's a good girl I " 

"The moment we saw and recognized hin, I told 
Charlie to go round at once and speak to him, and 6nd 
out what had happened." 

"Which I did in pretty quick time," supplemented 
Captain Gaythome ; " as I was afraid he would cut and 
run as soon as he caught sight of us, and I wanted to 
collar him before he'd got the chance." 

"Was he alone?" inquired Mrs. Gaythome. 

Charlie looked confused : 

" Well — not alone exactly ; I mean, I can't preciiely 
say that he was alone, don't you know ? " 

" Then who was accompanying him ? " 

Still Charlie stammered, and Fabia looked on in 
silent amusement and in mute protest against the 
unsuccessful old cnitom of Bowdlerizing for the benefit 
of in-laws. She was sick of her husband's attempts to 
re-edit her for the perusal of Mrs. Gaythome ; and she 
enjoyed his difficult and futile endeavour to perform a 
like office on behalf of Gabriel Carr. 

" Well, mother, don't you se2 f — I can't exactly — ^it 
wasn't anybody you'd know, don't you know? — and it 
hasn't anything to do with the point of the story." 

"Charles, do not prevaricate. It is a pernicious 
habit, only one step removrd from actual falsehood. 
Tell me at once who was with Gabriel Carr." 

"It was — I don't exactly know — and I couldn't 
exactly say, don't you see ? " 

"I conclude it was a brother-clergyman who had 
been also led away by Ritualism into Papistry, and you 
are trjring to screen iiim from me" 

" Good heavens, no I It wasn't anybody of that kind, 



*8o 



9n Sttb/ectton 



know?" ^^^^ " * '■°"''' ^ •'"ould Uke to 

Ml* Gaythorne looked mollified ■ 
I am relieved to hear it I wm «fr«M ♦!.- 
misguided young man might have £„ S^^', P~'' 
monastery. But that heno^b !S,S^f^*?^° * 
use toeing to screen hta from me" if ^ °° 

Romish priest or . monk. Z ^L it J-" "" "°* " 

glances which herTsffihrew t^Tu\'^''''^"'^ 
heJdherpeaceandlethrmJordS^'"'"'''' -she 

w^iitwasJlwy^^a^L'S""' '^'*'"^''« ''^ 
A nun? You don't me«, to say he w. «>i. 

whii?rbit~t":i,/rot'7r^^^^^ '^•-'»»«''. 

laughed ou^ght * W mirth any longer. 

Again Mrs. Gaythorne looked mollified • thino. -r. 

« T^n"S !^ "^^ " **>' "^•'' haviltn.*'"^ '""" 
i nen if it was not a nun— for whiVk i j 

thankful-what sort of. ZnJ^^J't,^ ^ '^'^-"^ 

WeU. mother, it was— it was — well „«♦ -^ 
proper sort of a woman, don't "„ s^?'."°* •""*« « 
I^en at I«jt Mrs Gaythorne unders^. 
Oh dear, dear, dear I " she exclaimed . « w 
very shocking 1 » wcjaimed : How very. 



Wlwt ft«Dpene5 (n p^tiM 



a8i 

door.- ** to hi. box and knocked at the 

«o« t^ •o1l:S; 'r "m*""'' " ' '"-"^ »>- 

Gabrid iSwAr htT *" "*"" ''^ P*"°" that 
-y^^hereandd^^^hjirPr^SthZ*^' "1 «° 

.nd didn't recognS metr ; ^on^"" S" "'*"«' •■^■ 
to the light & I IS •ntl^r f \f ^"^ '">' '^^'^ 

you«el£' I didn't ,L3k^,T'^r'*""*»"°™'°f 

shot. a. I didX^^,,^ SXt "t^^''\,''>:;i-^ 

"Then, Charles, I am thankful *h;>* r 
troUedyour inclinltionT ,*'""",'*»* ^r once you con- 

mywnVbiinvXTin a °?'''''r*''^''*^«''''»''for 
.uch a wick^ pS:^ Paris"'^" '>«wl-especially i„ 

when .peaSg to a^d-crf "ir''"'^''^ '^ 
sheet, with such a l^^fTl^J^P " ^"t» ^ * 
never s^en exceot ^thVr. , ^ * '" ""^ '>"' "^ I've 

engagement Se^';Jrbe:'^f? '" *'^- «"' 
"c poor b^gars had got seasoned 



••t 



9n Sttbjectton 



to beinf under fire. And then— before you could htve 
said ' Knife '—he dashed past me, and ran for hit life 
dr-wa the corridor, and was out of the building before I 
knew what he was up to. By Jove, I never saw a fellow 
in such a blue funk in my life before I It was a rummy 
go altogether ! " 

Mrs. Gaythorne gasped, and then shook her head 
reprovingly, 

"Charles, you should have stopped him I You 
should not have allowed him to escape before he had 
given some explanation of his extraordinary conduct, 
and sent some sort of a message to Janet" 

"I tell you, mother, I couldn't help myself The 
brute was out of sight before I knew what he was 
doing." 

" If I had been there, I should have stopped him." 

"You couldn't, mother, I swear I Besides, who'd 
have expected an English gentleman, whatever he'd 
done, to turn tail and run away like a frightened 
skunk ? " 

"There is nothing that I do not expect from 
misguided persons who are in secret league with the 
Jesuits." 

"Well, anyhow I couldn't stop the beggar, and I 
didn't" 

" It was a great pity that I was not with you I I 
should have stopped him, and should have insisted 
upon an explanation then and there." 

" I did ask the woman who was with him where I 
could find him," continued Charlie; "but she refused 
to tell me anything about him. He'd evidently given 
her his orders that the word was ' Mum,' as far as he 
was concerned; but I could see that she knew a 
precious sight more than she chose to tell." 






I 



tOlbat happened in parts asj 

"If I had been there I should have insisted upon 
her telhng," persisted Mrs. Gaythorne. who for ever 
afterwards was rooted in the belief that bad she oeen 
present on that memorable occasion, much further 
•orrow and suffering would have been avoided. The 
extreme unlikelihood of her presence in such circum- 
stances-considering that nothing would induce her 
ever to enter either a theatre or a Roman Catholic 
country-did not seem to occur to her ; and in some 
lemmine and recondite manner she contrived to lay all 

u ,. ' °' •*" •'•ence upon her son's devoted 
shoulders. 

"The whole affair upset me most tremendously, I can 
tell you,' contiuued Charlie. I always thought Carr 
such a ripping fine fellow-a really good chap with no 
humbug about him but as straight as they make 'em— 
and then to find him turn out like this— well, it seems 
to shake a fellow's belief in everything." 

Tears came into "rs. Gaythome's eyes, and began to 
course slowly down her weather-beaten cheeks. 

" That is what makes any sort of wrong-doing on the 
part of the clergy so very terrible," she said sorrowfully. 
It brings their high calling into disrepute, and appears 
to give the lie to the truths which they have preached 
But It ought r -.t to do so. However sadly His servants 
may fall away from the holiness of the'r first estate and 
may do despite to their sacred profession, the Master is 
still the same, yesterday, to^lay, and for ever. With 
Him there is no variableness, neither shadow of tuming 
Never forget tiiat, my son." 

Charlie was touched, and therefore shy and 
uncomformble. 

" Of course not, mother, of course not. I shouldn't 
think of doing such a thing. Besides," he added 



••4 



9n Subjection 



It 



boytohJy, "tho« cf ui who have good mothen dont 
want any panon to teach ui about things. The 
P«onf may fall ui, but our mothen won't : and we 
•ban t go far wrong If we Ulce our mother*! love at 
a Mrt of sample of what God'a love it like, and depend 
oo it Juit the lame, don't you know t " 
.„J*"*r; 'n»««ted and puiried. What a strange 
and wonderful thing this Christian religion was I Uh. 

and bussed her^lf with, the pracUcal side more than the 
spiritual side of religion ; but just now there was a look 

II u ^u"^^^ ""•* ~"P«' •''« "d reverence in 
all who beheld it Fabia had seen the «ime look in 
Gabriels face in London and at Vemacre, though not 
a trace of it in the Parisian theatre She called it 
lUuminatJon and Inspiration, for want of a better 
name: had she been brought up in the same school 
as Mrs. Gaythome, she would have called it the 
Indwelling of the Spirit 

The three Gaythomes talked over with one another 

ud Ulked it all over again with the Seatona But 
they could none of them arrive at an} sktufactory 
conclusion, or see that anything more could be done 
After the encounter at the theatre, Captain Gaythome 
had explored Paris for further traces of Gabriel, but in 
vain : the latter had evidently taken fri^-ht at Charlie's 
recognition of him, and had once again disappeared. 
Searching for him in Paris was like looking for a needle 
in a bundle of hay. So, as there was nothing further 
to be done, they all agreed to do it 

Then Fabia did about the worst thing that she had 
ever done in her life. It might not be as foolish as 
were her repeated visiu to the flat in Mount Street, but 



Wtet iNVpened in parte its 

ft wai more evil in iti esMnce, smee It wu intended to 
do harm, while the visiU to Mount Street were onlr 
orsanlxed four patttr U ttn^s: and— like the wont 
thingt that are done by the majority of u»— it had iu 
origin in jealonay. She went down for the day to 
Gaythome, and told the full and complete hiitory of 
the scene in Pr.Ha to Janet Carr. 

FaWa was rot only jealous because Gabriel had 
rejected her and chosen Janet, although— in spite of all 
that had happened— she still hated her on that scora. 
The cause of the hatred w\p)\\. be over, but the hatred 
itself remained, since hate Ike love, has a wonderful 
power of surviving its ia .^tors. Her own love for 
Gabriel had died a sudden death on that night in Paris. 
Just at first, when she saw him in the opriosite box, the 
sight of the man's physical beauty stinr he ember* of 
her love into flames again : she was alwt i. particularly 
sensitive to the influence of beauty; but when she 
beheld, across the theatre, the pitiable exhibition of 
craven fear which the appearance of her husband 
produced, her love was turned into loathing and con- 
tempt If there was one thing that she adored more 
than beauty it was strength— strength as shown by 
physical courage, for Fabia was too elemental a woman 
to feel the fascination of moral excellencies : and as she 
had first loved Gabriel when he showed himself her 
master, so she ceased to love him as soon as she believed 
him to be in terror of her husband. 

But Fabia had still further cause of jealousy of Janet ; 
for— in spite of all her sorrow and misery— the supreme 
joy of womanhood was about to crown poor Janet's 
life. And again Fabia's nature was too elemenUl 
fcr her not to be jealous of every woman to whom had 
been granted the happiness which she had hitherto 



i 

i 



*M 



9ns«b|ectton 






bera denled-the culminating happineis of mothw. 

We shall all do well to remember that the unclean 
sp-nt which seeketh rest and findeth none, and » 
jeturneth to the hous, whence he came, taking wit~ 
him se»en other spirits more wicked than him«:lf is 
nearly always the spirit of jealousy. Among all ihe 
evU demons, there is none so clever as he in paving the 
way for his comrades, and in opening the doo« for 

clof ed to them for ever. -, 

So Fabia went down to Gaythome on purpose to retail 
the miserable Parisian episode to Gabriel's w^fe. 

Janet heard her to the end, with no sign of emotion 
save a somewhat heightened colour: then, when Se 
wretched story was finished, she quietly askri • 

■' B^IJ.'^^T T ""'^ "" ^^- M« Gaythome?" 
replSr ^°" "'*''* *° '"'°* •*•" P**"* 

She had indeed managed to persuade herself that it 
was wrong to keep a person so deeply concerned in the 

Tl S wmTk^T I" *^ '^'"^ ""''^ '^Sard to the kind 
fhi ♦!, r •'«'.'• '""'«"«^'^" apparently leading: and 

enlighten her upon the point So specious are the 
arguments of the spirit of jealousy! 

"Why?" Janet never wasted word* 

Fabia was somewhat nonplussed. 

Wi conduct afreets you more than anybody." she 
lamely explained. i'^^y, sne 

"That was rather a rea«>n for not telling me," was 
the quiet reply. ^ ' 

Fabia was silent for a moment She found the calm 



Wbat ftappeneb m Paris ,», 

•com In the hazel eye. decidedly uncomforuble. Then 

"I should imagine now that you know what manner 
of man your husband is, you will leave oiT hoSng o 
even wishmg for his return " ^ 

tojjelieye this tale you have come to tell me?" 

hu,LnA-^° T ^""^ ''°" ^''" •'^'P '^««ving it. My 
h.«.band»qu.te prepared to corroborate my ftatemS 

LAo^h * "* ^'- ^"'' ^''"^ °" own eyes: and 
although you may «ot think much of my accuracy 

tsr^t^r "^ ^'•''^^" ^^^«>- ^- ss 

J And given that it I. true, what difference will it 

f!!;i^I'"'^T"'V ^ "^ "°* ^'"'^ ^''«t yo" mean?" 
..ii^kM P**' with astonishment: it would have made 

M 'dVir ^*""*' 1*°"" °^J*"«''' *«*h broke: 
I dont believe that what you tell me is true-I 

Nothing can alter that I belon/ b, hSr^Z^T 1 

Janet laughed in her scorn. 

" you understand me-of course you can't ! You «,!,« 
never loved «,ybody in the world but yours^lj' how 



ttt 



$n Snbiectton 



eutyou oodentand the mysterious unfty of mtrrfage? 
Gabriel and I a« indissolubly one. whatever happS.: 
nothing can put us asunder : and even if it is truettat 

^^ K i^,^ ^"^ *''~ •" "^ °"« •'f *e saints of God: 
cherish him when he comes to himself. Do you 
remember the stoiy of S. Anne, who-after her husband 
Sfh ^ ?°^^ :?"* °' *"' Vnagogue-received him 
Wm before? And do, you think that then are no S 
rilTuV^^ ^°* ^^P' *^y°" *°'W <* « your 

fi^^nLnt^T*"*,*" *" ""*• Doubtless you will 
find plenty of people ready to help yon in casting 
stones at my husband when he does <ime back; bS 

JH^' r u ?.' *"" "*"* '"*"'S«' "f ''« has wronged 
anybody, he shall never hear a word of reproach, but 
only words of love and welcome" 

And Janet, in the dignity of her outraged love, flung 
^Zc^i '^'*^ "*=•' • 'J"«*"'y g^'f" that Fabia 
T .. u°"J^ "V^' " "''* '»»'' <«»« tood before 
Janefs husband She said good-bye and got herself 
out of the room as best she could, feeling for the second 
time in her life like a beaten cur. And from that 
moment she liked and respected Janet Carr: and felt 
that she would give the half of all that she possessed if 
only she could love anyone as Janet loved Gabriel. 

It is loving-not being loved-that makes a woman 
as a king's daughter all glorious within, and clothes 
her spint as with wrought gold. 



CHAPTER XX 

ISABEL'S TEMPTATION 

One afternoon, not long after the return of the 
Scatons from their Wliitauntide holiday, the Prime 
Minfater called upon Isabel at her house in Prince's 
wSf^., She was glad to see him. with the gladness 
which the sight of a man who has once loved her 
almost always produces in a woman's mind. There are 
few people towards whom women feel so kindly as 
towards the men whom they might have married, but 
did not : just as there are none whom they regard with 
such scorn and loathing as the men who might have 
married them but did not Men dislike those to whom 
they have behaved badly, even more than they dislike 
those who have behaved badly to them : women, on the 
contrary prefer those whom they have treated badly 
even to those who have treated them well " He nevu 
pardons who hath done the wrong." « a true saying as 
The""fo?«S '°^*^ ^r'""' "•'»"• b»t«"«««tute 
For she who hath done the wrong not only pardons- 
she commends, she praises, she rewards. There is no 
kindness too extreme to be showered upon the injured 
one-no favour too great to be shown to him. If a 

he must not be kind to her-he must allow her to S 
189 ^ 



t 



i 



*90 



9n Subjection 



unkind to him. It is pait of the divinely feminine law 
of compensation. 

Therefore Mrs. Seaton— who had behaved abominably 
to the Prime Minister before he was ever a Prime 
Minister or she a Mrs. Seaton— cherished a sincere 
and lasting affection for Lord Wrexham; and was 
always pleased to see — and to be seen by— him: 
especially when, as on the present occasion, she was 
conscious that she had on a becoming gowa She was 
too true a woman to flirt after she was married ; and 
she was much too true a woman not to want to do so. 
The consuming passion to attract, which is so incom- 
prehensible to the women who do not feel it and so 
Irresistible to the women who do, was bred in the very 
bones of Isabel : when she ceased to feel it she would 
cease to breathe. 

As for Lord Wrexham, to him Isabel was the only 
woman in the world, and always would be : but he had 
loved her far too well to make love to her now that she 
was another man's wife. The bitterest day of his life 
had been the day when she wrote Ttkel across his nar-e : 
nothing had ever made up to him for that Fate 
had thrown into his lot certain ingredients which are 
supposed to compensate for a good deal in the lives of 
men— notably the Premiership: but nothing had ever 
compensated him for the loss of Isabel, and nothing 
ever would. He felt towards Fate as we all feel towards 
that mysterious entity in shops, called "Sign," who 
comes forward, after we have finally discovered that 
the article we want is not in stock, and endeavours to 
persuade us that we did not really want that article at 
all, but something absolutely different, of which the 
•hop is full. Fate had treated poor Lord Wrexham 
very mud» the same as the being called "Sign" treats 



3«aW» TCemptMlon ,9, 

and Fate had given him the Prime-Ministership-not 

fcelT IHT-""" T" *•"■"«= ""'• ^« felt, assail 
wteSl •="■*=""***"«'. both impatient and un- 

« I am vwy glad you are at home," he began, "as I 

thrh^r !k ."? Pr'f."'f *° "^y *° y°^- ^ =>""« 'ate in 
the hope that I should find you in and alone." 

tJS/!)** "^, ^"1" f**""" ''*^ ~««' '^"•y." retorted 
Isabel ; "as a rule the later the hour the larger the meet 
You remmd me of a very Vorthy girl I once knew, who 

r«M r*""^ *" "' '■"' ^"^ '"''"''d •■" Lent and 
she said that as so many people seemed shocked at her 

being mamed in Lent, she had put off her wedding 
until the very last week I " ™u"ig 

I ^?'''*f ? ""'''"'• " """^^y* «=''*™«J Wm to hear 
Isabel rattle on in her old inconsequent way 

- Nevertheless events have proved the wisdom of my 
course: I have found you in and alone." 

J'a^^"^ "^i*"'"^ ''"PP^"' *'"=*'P* the impossible: 
and you should never expect anything but the unex- 
pected, or foresee anything except the unforeseen. 
Ihat IS the wisdom of life." 

-.."J^Z ^- "^^ '"°"°* *''^*"°'" '»'d Lord Wrexham : 

the^'SreL- "'' " ""' '' "''=""'""' *''" 
"You don't want to follow her, Wrexham : she dwells 
flnth you. It 13 not often that she avails herself of 
official residences; but for the time being she has 
certainly taken up her abode in Downing Street" 

Lord Wrexham fell in with Isabel's mood, 
it i, mT.:*? *P ^' "P *•" ^'^^ ^heir again when 



H 



•9» 



9n Snbjectlon 



He never spoke of Paul without the prefix « Mr " It 
was the only sign he made of not having foigiven 
Isabels husband for having married Isabel. Al«> he 
rarely addressed her by any name whatsoever: the 
natural man kicked at having to say "Mrs. Seaton." 
and the spiritual man hesitated at calling another man's 
wife by her Christian name. In many ways Lord 
Wrexham was very old-fashioned. 

Isabel shrugged her shoulders. -Not she: wisdom 
wont bej&w (ttu galin. But / shall ; and I shan't 
make a bad understudy, in the enforced absence of 
the real articlt" 

"Certainly you will not. You are by far the wisest 
bSant'^* I ever meet, as well as being the most 

Isabel shook her head. "No, I'm not-not the wisest, 
I mean; 111 g,ve in to you about the most brilliant 
But Im not really wise, Wrexham: that is why I 
admire it so much in you. You'U find as a rule that 
the people we all admire most are the people who 
really are ^as* we ourselves pretend to be." 

« I do not agree with you : I consider you extremely 
wse : and I think you should use your wisdom for the 
benefit of your husband and his followers. I know that 
you and I are one in thinking that they are going too 
last, and that in grasping too much they will lose every- 
thing; Md I feel that it is for yon to influence tho 
advanced section of the party through your influence 
over your husband. You know as well as I do that 
there is nothing that Mr. Seaton would not Ac for 
you : and I want you to use that power in order to 
Sr ^^^"^ ^""° "^'"^ *"* disintegrated and then 

Lord Wrexham was far too just a man not to admit 



to the full his rival's excellence as a husband and power 
as a politician. 

Again Isabel shook her head " But that's just what 
I don't want to da I would give anything to convince 
Paul that I am right and that he is wrong with regard 
to the present political crisis, which, according to you 
and me, isnt a crisis at all and shouldn't be treated 
as such : but I couldn't bear him to do what he thought 
wrong and I thought right, just to please me. Which 
IS what he is quite capable of doing." 

Wrexham looked puizled. As long as a drag was 
put on the Radical wheel, he did not see that the 
inner machinery of the drag used was a matter of much 
moment 

"You see," Isabel went on confidentially, "it is like 
this: a man will do anything that a woman asks as a 
favour, and nothing that she advises as the wisest 
course. If she begs her husband to stand on his head 
just to please her, he'll be found for hours togethe 
wrong end uppermost, waving his feet aloft as if he 
were a pigeon in a pie : but if she tries to prove to him 
that the head is a safer mode of locomotion than the 
feet, and that he will be acting more wisely if he adopts 
It as such, that man will stick to his own feet as long 
as the world stands, and won't even go to the Antipodes 
for fear he should thereby seem to be following his 
wife's superior advice, and walking upside-down. Oh I 
I know them." And Isabel sighed over the weaknesses 
of the stronger sex. 

" Well, that makes everything all the more easy for 
you," said the Prime Minister, endeavouring to follow 
the thread of her argument 

"No, no, no; it doesn't: just the very opposite! 
That way of managing a husband is quite the best way 



■94 



9n Sn»f ectfow 



i 



in domestic polltlct ; no home ii complete withoat it 
But it doesn't do in really big things: it is too great a 
responsibility for the woman. Don't you understand; 
it ik the knowledge that Paul will do anything that I 
ask, which often keeps me from asking anything? Of 
course, it is excellent to have a woman's strength, but it 
is tyrannous to use it like a woman." 

" I think I begin to see what you mean," replied 
Wrexham slowly. 
Isabel babbled on ; 

" I do hate a bossy kind of wife— the sort that makes 
up her husband's mind' for him, and then sees that he 
doesnt change it That isn't playing the game. Now 
I always pride myself on never doing anything that I 
can't do really well : that is why I never play the violin 
or talk to young girls." 
" I am sure you could do both extremely well" 
There was not much that Wrexham did not believe 
could be done excellently by Mrs. Paul Seaton. 

" No, I couldn't : therefore I dont do them at all But 
you'd be surprised at the things I've done well in my 
time," Isabel added naively. 
" I should not 1 That I can swear I " 
"Yes, you would : I've been surprised myself, and you 
can't think better of me than I do I I remember once 
Mrs. Gaythorne made me go to a village Dorcas-meeting 
with her, and you should just have seen the flannel 
petticoat that I made I It was a perfect dream I " 
"I can well believe it I" 

" Well then, you see, having laid down a rule that I 
would never do anything unless I could do it well, I 
did not marry without making up my mind to be one 
of the best wives that ever hopped through a wedding 
ring. And the best sort are not the bossy sort, and it's 



Sealierfl ttemptation 



•9S 



00 good pretending that they are!" The moment 
Isabel had delivered herself of this statement it 
occurred to her that it was not quite the happiest thing 
imaginable to have said to her present company ; but 
— being a woman of tact — having said the wrong 
thing, she stuck to it The crowning mistake of con- 
versation is to show that one knows one has made a 
mistake: just as nine times out of ten the greatest 
insult one can offer is to offer an apology. So she went 
gaily on : " Therefore, having become a past master in 
the fine art of being a good wife, I cannot debase my 
art by using it for a worthy purpose. ' Art for arf s 
sake,' is ever the motto df true artists, be they artists in 
words or in colours — paperers or painters, so to speak ; 
and art ceases to be art when it becomes a means and 
not an end." 

Isabel had succeeded in covering her retreat neatly. 

" Yes, yes, doubtless you are right : at any rate I am 
sure you know best as to how far you are justified in 
influencing your husband's political life. But that is 
not really what I came to say to you this afternoon : 
there is something else." 

" And what is that ? Something very interesting, I 
hope." 

** It is something which concerns yourself, and 
therefore is of supreme interest to me." 

"Thank you, Wrexham: you always put things so 
nicely that one is apt to forget you are a Prime 
Minister." 

" The long and short of the matter is this," continued 
Lord Wrexham in his slightly ponderous manner : " on 
account of his health, Gravesend has had to resign the 
Governorship of Tasmania ; and I want to know if you 
would like me to offer the post to your husband ? " 



■H SnSnMeetfon 

Inbel guped. It Ii alwayt a little overpowering 
■uddenly to find one'i hetrf ■ desire within onea grtip. 
"That is what I really came to say to yoa," added 
Wrexham. 
" But why say it to me and not to my husband 7 " 
Isabel was herself again— that impotinenl self which 
could ask such pertinent questions. 

Wrexham b^an to explain in his usual somewhat 
laborious fashion ; 

"Because wn hear fixMn our agents all over the 
country that— owing to certain measures which the 
present Government have brought forward— there is 
every probability that we shall be returned to power at 
the next General Election with a considerably larger 
m^ority than we have at present; and, you must 
understand that it is not customary to offer a Colonial 
Governorship to a man who is sure of a seat in the 
Cabinet before long : it looks too much like shelving 
him." 

" Then why shelve Paul ?" was the quick rejoinder of 
Paul's wife. 

"That is just what I am endeavouring to explain to 
you : because I happen to know that you would very 
much like this appointment : and because it is you who 
are my friend— not Mr. Seaton. I only feel an interest 
in him because he is your husband I " (He meant that 
he only felt a hatred for Paul because Isabel was Paul's 
wife : but that was neither here nor there.) « It is your 
pleasure and happiness that concern me," he went on : 
" not Mr. Seaton's." 

" My happiness is bound up in my husband's," said 
Isabel haughtily. 

The woman was suddenly merged in the wife, and for 
a moment she hated Wrexham. 



SMM'f ttktnptatlon »n 

"Then so far u it Is, Mr. Seaton'i withes are of 
»r»%reme importance to me," replied Wrexhan, with un- 
laiiing courtesy; "and, if you wish it, I will offer him 
this appointment at once." 

" No, no, no ; wait a bit : don't be in such a hurry. I 
want to think." 

Isabel spoke impatiently. She had noted the " Mr," 
and knew the social exdusiveness which it implied ; 
and the moment of hatred was prolonged into two. 

"Believe me, I would not hurry you for anything. I 
will leave you to think the matter over, and you can 
send me a line In a day o^ sa Just Yes or No will be 
sufficient: I shall understand," said the Prime Minister, 
rising from his seat 

" No, no ; don't go : stay here. I can think it over 
just as well In a few minutes as in a few days— better. 
I never make a mistake except through caution.* 

"Just as you like: my time is at your disposal," 
replied Wrexham, with his usual old-fashioned polite- 
ness : and straightway buried himself, after the manner 
of the Babes in the Wood, in the « sweet gieen leave.* ' 
of the WtttmmsUr Gauttt. 

Isabel got up from her chair and went to the window 
at the far end of the back drawing-room, where she 
stood looking out upon the gardens in ^he rear of the 
house. It was a tremendous temptation, and she 
recogniied It as such. Not only would she herself have 
the sort of life she liked best, but— if she accepted 
Wrexham's offer— Paul would be saved from making 
those mistakes which she felt convinced he would make 
as soon as he became a Cabinet Minister. The country 
was not ripe for the reforms proposed by Paul and his 
section of the party — ^would not be ripe for some years to 
come J and the increased Liberal majority which, owing 



ic 



•«• 9n SnbfecHon 

to the turn that aAkIrt had taken, now teemed probable 
after the General Election, would be ipeedily turned 
Into defeat by the oft-repeated Radical error of plucking 
the apple before It wu ripe. And thei, where would 
Paul and hit followera be? Deeply buried under the 
onut of having broken up the Liberal party, and lettoied 
to power the preientOppoiitkm. Jutt now the Gomn- 
ment majority wat to tmall that nothing vigorout 
in the shape of reform could be contemplated ; but 
when the handt of the Radlcalt were ttrengthened, at 
there teemed every likelihood that they would be after 
the forthcoming Dissolution, there wat no revolution 
too Immense— no mituke too egreg'out— for them to 
attempt to affect Thut Mrt. Seaton reatoned : and 
felt that it was her duty u well at her pleature to accept 
the Prime Minister's offer, and to save her husband from 
himself. 

Of course there was the bare possibility that Paul 
ttJght be right and she wrong with regard to what was 
best for the country : but that possibility seemed so very 
remote, that she speedily ditmitied It from the line of 
argument 

But, on the other hand, there was Paul himtelf, with 
his own hopes and desires and wishes. What right had 
she to frustrate these hopes, even if the believed thei.. 
to be delusive : what right to disappoint those wishes, 
even though they might be opjK»sed to hers? There 
was no doubt that his political position was strengtening 
every day. A year or two ago the possibility of his 
having a place in the Cabinet was frequently hinted at: 
now the possibility of a Liberal Cabinet being recon- 
str acted without him, never occurred to anybody. And 
even if her forebodings came true, and his reign was 
doomed to a swift and snlcklal ending, be would still 



9mM'« Qdnptaflon ■«« 

hvn bean > Cabinet Mlnlfter— and that U lomethini; 
fa a man's life : fa fact the only thing, except herself, 
that Paul had ever let his whole heart upon. And had 
she my right to stand between him and the realization 
of his life's ambition— any right to stand between him 
and the fulfilment of his heart's desire t 

She knew that he would at once accept the Colonial 
appointment if it were offered to him : she had no doubts 
upon that score. Had she not once said that she wished 
for It— and were not her wishes always paramount with 
him ? She was well aware that unselfishness was one of 
the strongest elements ln«her husband's character ; and 
that he carried It to such a pitch where sne was con- 
cerned that her happiness was really and truly hit- 
that his could not exist apart from hers. But how 
far was she justified fa taking advantage of this 
passionate and selfless affection, even if she believed 
that she was acting for his good as well a /or her own ? 
The very plenitude of her power <nade her pause before 
exercising It 

All these thoughts raced through her mind as ahe 
stood looking out upon the trees In the garden, and 
Lord Wrexham studied the pages of the Wutmituttr 
GaattU. 

Then suddenly there came into her head a conversation 
she had once had with poor Gabriel Carr about the 
sanctity of marriage; and stray phrases from the 
marriage-service rang In her ears. "Wilt thou obey 
and serve him?"— did that mian. Wilt thou so order 
his life that he shall have no voice In the matter? 
"That this woman may be loving and amiable, faithful 
and obedient;"— did this mean, May she have such a 
strong will of her own that her husband for the sake of 
peace will always give in to her ? •* For the husband is 



if 



Bn SnMectlon 



wZ,^« f ^ '"^'' L *"*" *"* ~"'«y *« Wea that it 
was hers to command and his to submit; hers to express 
a wish and his to carry it out? "Ye wives, be in sub- 
jecbon to your own husbands ; "-was this an apostolic 

right to take her own way independently of the man 
s^ Jus marrfed. and to live her own life uttS 
regardless of him ? ' 

f^^''^^ "***, *^°"^'**' ""P'^^y <='>'^ each other 
^rough her active brain Isabel knew for a certainty 
that she would reject Wrexham's offer. It was the 
only course open to her. as long as she regarded her 
marriage as a sacrament, and her husband as her lord 
and master diwnely appointed : there was no alternative. 
"Subjection" might mean all sorts of things; bu^ ft 
could not possibly mean having one's own way at al 
costs and in defiance of all autiiority: if she attempted 
to prove tiiat ,t did. not a dictionao^ «» England would 
support her. As she herself had said, she could make 
up her mind as well in a few minutes as in a few days- 
and she had made it up, ' ' 

.•„»1\*K 7 ^!°^' ^f"'«»'°." ''he said, as she came back 
into the front drawing-room ; « I can't accept It was 
nice of you to think of me. but the thing is impossible 1 " 
"Just as you please." t~ =• 

Lord Wrexham's manner was as ponderously polite 
as ever; it was impossible to tell from the expression 

s'eatnrdeSa" '^ ''''°'''' °' '^^''''^^^ «^ ^r. 

it l^fLZZlllfTa.^^'' ''^' ^" ^•'^^ --y 

" I thought you said they were identical " 
Lord Wrexham always experienced an indulgent 
pleasure when he convicted Isabel of inaccuracy 



9MbeI'0 Vetnptiitton 



301 



Isabel drew herself up : 

« I said that our happiness was identical. If you do 
quote, you should always be careful to verify your 
quototions— especially if you use them to point morals 
or to adorn tales." 

Wrexham took his snubbing quite meekly : he thought 
that he had deserved it But he did not think that Paul 
Seaton had deserved the happiness which was identical 
with Isabel's. 

A few nights after this, when Paul and Isabel were 
sitting together after dinner preparatory to Paul's going 
back to the House, Isabel said : 

"What is wrong, Paul? You've been so quiet 
all through dinner, that I feel sure something must be 
the matter with you ; but I didn't like to ask before 
the servants if it was an ill-digested foreign policy or 
merely an ill-digested meaL Has anything vexed you 
really?" * ' 

" Well, darUng, it has and it hasn't." 

" What a statesmanlike answer 1 Go on." 

" Well, my sweet, if you want to know the truth, it is 
this. You remember once saying to me that you should 
like me to be appointed Governor of Tasmania in 
Gravesend's place if he resigned, don't you ? " 

Isabel remembered only too well, and intimated as 
much, as she came and sat on the arm of her husband's 
chair while he enjoyed his post-prandial cigar. 

"Well, then," continued Paul, "I was wrong in 
imagining that Wrexham might offer it to me: that's 
alL Gravesend has resigned, and Wrexham has given 
the place to Lord Bobby Thistletown." 

" And you are disappointed ? Oh, Paul 1 " 

There was positive anguish in Isabel's voice : surely 
her great renunciation had not betn in vain after all I 



■ 1 



\ 



3o» 



9n Sttbjectfon 



"Only on your account, my sweet I 'houeht vou 
wanted ,t." And Paul's arm stole lovingly round hh 

Wilc S WAlSt* 

" And didn't you want it yourself? " There was stUl 
anxiety in Isabel's blue eyes. 

JJJtl^^J ,7:^^^^ Goodgracious.no! But I want 
evetything that you want, sweetheart, as I can only 

enou T" ^^""^ '" >'°""- ■^°" ""low that well 

though*. n-^T.l^°'* '•'"^ *""*«' 't 'f y°^ hadn't 
thought I did? Yon are quite sure of that?" Isabel 
persisted. > 

hel?*l^'r?"l?.' "°^~">d" It would have 
been the final shelving of me and the end of my 
pohUca^ career. But all the same I should have Uken 

thought It would please you." 

Isabe^ laid her cheek tenderly against the top of Paul's 
head. « Then that would have been veo^ wrong, dea^st 

ow;^rj"i'ct^sr;o";y ^ "" -'-^^-y 

"Well, they oughtn't ta" 

"Well, they will." 

"I don't think that that is the proper way of bringing 
a wife into subjection to her own husband " ^ 

Paul laughed. " Subjection be hanged l' Yourhapp-- 
ness IS my first object, and always will ba It makes me 
far happier to see you happy than to be happy myZTit 
you will excuse tiae bull I can only be b^plySgl 

part to do the tiungs that give you pleasure;' 
laabel nesUed up to him. 



39ibcv» ^Eemptatfon 303 

"You are quite the nicest liusband that was ever 
Invented," she whispered. "It was a happy find of 
mine when I chanced upon you I" 

" Not so lucky as mine by a long way," answered 
Paul, kissing her. "But about this Tasmanian 
busmess? Are you disappointed, my darling ? Because 
if you are, I shall never forgive Wrexham as long as I 
live for not shelving me." 

"No; I'm not a bit disappointed, Paul. I've 
changed my mind since that Ume I talked to you about 
Lord Gravesend. I'd much rather see you a Cabinet 
Minister than a Colonial (Jovemor." 

"I'd much rather see myself one, I can tell you that," 
replied Paul, with a huge sigh of relief It was such a 
comfort to find that Isabel had not cared about that 
Tasmanian appointment after all! "But what about 
yourself, my sweet? I thought you had set your heart 
upon being an Excellency." 

"So I had, but I've changed my heart— I mean my 
mmd : and now I'd far rather be a Cabinet Ministering- 
angel than a Colonial Governess, if these are the proper 
terms for the wives of those offices." 

"Well, I'm very glad to hear it," said Paul, kissing 
her again: "exceedingly glad, I can tell you I For 
much as I should like to be in the next Cabinet it 
would be no pleasure to me if it didn't please you as 
well." ' 

"But you really would enjoy it for yourself, wouldn't 

"Rather I My only fear is that I am not a bie 
enough man for the place." 

"Oh I you are big enough for that," replied 
Isabel coolly: "you are what I should call 'ordinary 
Cabmet siie.' " ' 



*■'■ 



M 



S04 



9n Snbjectton 



"But it would pletse you too, wouldn't It my 
darling?" Paul persisted. 

" It would ; it would please me most tremendously," 
answered Isabel. And as she thrilled at the touch of 
her husband's arm round her, she knew that she was 
speaking the truth. 

After Paul had gone back to the House, she went u j 

Into the dni-.ving.room and stood with her elbows on 

the mantel-piece, looking thoughtfully down upon the 

mass of aowers which filled the unused fireplace. "I 

have done the right thing," she said to herself: " there's 

no shadow of doubt whatever upon that score. The 

poor darling would simply have jumped at that silly 

Governorship, if Wrexham had offered it to him, just to 

please me: and it would have spoilt the rest of his 

life for him, poor dear I It was my turn to gi/e way 

this time— and never to let him know that I had done 

so : it would be all spoilt if he were to find out that I 

had given it up for his sake, so he never must I really 

think that I am on all fours with S. Peter as to the 

meaning of the word ' subjection ' : this was the sort of 

thing he had in his mind a* the time. But nevertheless," 

she added, with a sigh, as she glanced at herself in the 

mirror of the overmantel, " I should dearly have loved 

to be an Excellency I It is, after all, the only really 

graceful way of growing old." 



CHAPTER XXI 



■ 



CAPTAIN GAYTHORNE'S HORSBWHir 

Captain Gaythornb wfes Intensely unhappy : there 
co^d be no two opinions as to that : and his miseiy was 
^nning to show itself in his countenance and bearing. 
His ruddy complexion was fast losing its claim to that 
epithet; and his round face was growing pinched and 
haggard. 

His mother did not notice his depressed spirits and 
changed appearance. She was just then so fully occu- 
pied with a fresh scheme for the further enlighten- 
ment of the inhabitants of the South Sea Islands 
that she had no time nor attention to spare for 
domestic and family mattera Moreover. Mia. Gay- 
tiiorne had a great deal of the masculine element 
in her cast of mind— notably that power, usually the 
prerogative f tiie stronger sex, of steadily refusing 
to «» a thing at all for a long time, and then as 
persistently declining to see anytiiing else. The 
natural and normal man either believes that his 
nearest and dearest are as Behemoth in tiieir strengtii; 
or dse he beholds tile very jaws of Deatij gaping to 
receive them: he knows no middle course for the 
treading of tiie feet he loves, between the patii of 
the young hart upon tiie mountains and the Via 
DohroM tiiat leads direct to tiie grave. And in tiiis 
305 V 



\\\ 






iii! 



s«* 9n SnDlectton 

respect Mn. Gaythorne was one with the normal 
man. 

Fabia saw what was wrong with her husband ; but 
she hardened her heart and did not care. She was 
in a chronic state of irritation against him ; anc^ there 
is nothing so hardening to the heart as irritability. To 
use a horrible and popular expression of the present 
day, Charlie " got on her nerves " ; and a woman who 
is capable of allowing things to " get on her nerves " is 
capable of anything. 

Our grandmothers — bless their memory!— did not 
allow things to get on their nerves— either their 
husbands or things of less importance. They knew 
the devil when they met him ; and therefore did not 
confuse ill-temper with ill-health, nor call by the 
euphonious name of " nerves " the unffovemed passions 
of their own sinful hearts. It is one of the devil's latest 
and most successful disguises, that of the irresponsible 
and neurotic invalid: the pose termed "neurasthenia" 
has completely thrown into the shade his old make-up 
of the angel of light : as it not only deceives the victims 
of the performance, but takes in equally the performers 
themselves. 

And perhaps there was something — if not much — to 
be said on Fabia's side. Charlie simply adored his 
wife; but he did not take the trouble to understand 
her. A not uncommon mistake among married men I 
Charlie had cut and dried rules as to what women liked 
and what women did not like: and he regulated his 
behaviour towards each and every member of the sex 
accordingly. He had a deeply rooted conviction- 
implanted by his father and cultivated by his mother's 
fostering care — that the more a man permitted a woman 
to trample upon him, the better that woman was 



captain Oastbomc^ ixnreewbip 307 

plea«ed : and therefcre he persistently made himaelt 
Into a door-mat under Fabla's feet, without pausine to 
consider whether this was the conjugal attitude most 
likely to sui>-hcr particular requirements. Charlie's 
rule of conduct was to do and to say everything that 
he thought would please his wife : so far so good : but 
he made the initial mistake of omitting to discover in 
the first place exactly what would please her. In which 
OTor again he did not stand alone. If he had wor- 

1„!m I, '^ ^^u ""'^ ."'«J«^''t°od her more, things 
would have been better Vor both of them, and mudi 
misery might have been averted. But a firm conviction 
IS hard to uproot-especially if it be implanted in the 
mind of a man, and most especially if it happen to be 
an incorrect one. There is an innate loyalty in the 
mascuhne nature which makes it cling to wrong im- 
pressions as it would ding to lost causes: it seems 
somehow ratiier shabby to throw them over simply 
because they happen to be unfounded. This trait- 
which « not without its excellencies-is a survival of 
mediaeval chivalry, and accounts for much that is 
otiierwise difficult to understand in the sons of 
men. 

Therefore if Charlie were miserable, Fabia was 
miserable also : and-let conventional moralists say what 
they wiU-tiiere are few things more selfish than 

.?nf iTu ","*' ''^PPy P*=°P'*= ^^° "^ the kind and 
unselfish people; and it is quite right that they should 
oe so. It is not when our own pockets are empty that 
we see to the replenishing of our neighbour's ; it is not 
when our own teeth are aching that we accompany a friend 
to the dentist's. With regard to suffering-altiiough not 
with regard to sin-we have neitiier tiie time nor the 
mclmauon to remove the mote from our brother's eye 



^1 



sot 



9n SttMectlon 



1 1 



nntn the operation for beam has been successfully 
periormed upon our own. 

Fabia Gaythorne was bored to extinction : the dulness 
of her hfe was well-nigh killing her : and the truth that 
haWng chosen her own lot she was In duty bound to 
make the best of it, in no way affected the fact that she 
neither made the best of it nor even attempted to do sa 
Life without love Is far too dull for the majority of 
women; so, Ma rule -with their usual power of 
adaptation -failing the real article, they invent a 
substitute; which is often as difficult to distinguish 
from the real thing as is Elkington's Best -Electro 
from solid silver: the hall-mark being in .ypher and 
known only to the gods. Mortals are only able to 
differentiate between the two when the electro begins 
to wear off; and that rarely happens until it is too late 
to change the plated goods. 

Of course ennui is no excuse for wrong-doing ; but it 
IS often a reason for it It Is the idle hearts, a! well as 
Satea ' *" '"''P''"' *•* occupation by 

The one person who saw Charlie Gaythorne's misery 
and was made wretched by it, was Isabel Seaton. How 
she wished that she had never invited Fabia to England at 
all I And how she wished that she had left a few stones 
unturned in her efforts to bring about a match between 
Fabia and Captain Gaythorne I If wishes were horses. 
Isabel would have had a fine stud; but as it 
*"'.*''"y ,r'" absolutely useless. Chariie had 
married Fabia. and Fabia was breaking his heart- 
and -unless Isabel were much mistaken - Fabia 
would soon break up his home also. Isabel was 

mL^^- *"'*, J*""*" *** •^"'^* 'n Platonic 
friendships, unless she happened to have any special 



captain OastDorne's toceewbip 309 

reaion for professing that article of faith : she was faf 
too fond of admiration: but she Icnew that if such 
friendships did exist, the contracting parties were 
rarely— if ever— newly and unhappily married women 
and their recently rejected lovers. Of course there was 
the case of herself and Wrexham to prove the contrary ; 
but she was nearly forty and Wrexham fifty-n' le ; while 
Ram Chander was in the prime of life, and Fabia only 
twenty-three. Time not only heals many sorrows ; it 
also obviates many dangers. Then, again, Lord 
Wrexham was an Englishman and a gentleman; 
and Dr. Mukharji was neither the one nor the other, 
as his treatment of Isabel's appeal to him had proved. 
Moreover, Isabel was passionately in love with her own 
husband, while Fabia utterly despised hers: therefore, 
the intimacy between Fabia and her cousin was not to 
be classed in the same category as the friendship betwee.i 
Isabel and Lord Wrexham ; and as Mrs. Seaton con- 
templated what the end of this mad folly on the part of 
Fabia would probably be, her heart was very heavy 
indeed. 

The visit to Paris had done no permanent good. 
The relief it afforded had only been temporary. As 
soon as Fabia returned to London, her visits to the 
rooms in Mount Street became as frequent and as 
prolonged as ever. In vain her husband besought her 
to go back with him to Gaythome ; in vain he 
suggested another trip abroad. Fabia was as 
immovable in her decision to remain in London as 
she had been in her decision to return to it from Paris. 

Charlie felt that he could not speak to her about 
what was filling his thoughts; nothing would induce 
him to do such a thing. His chivalrous nature revolted 
at the bare idea of suggesting to his wife that hei 



• I I 



V 



9n Subjection 



reUtioni with another man were too intimate : all that 
he could do was to have it out with the other man 
WmMlf. Therefore the only course open to him was to 
go direct to Dr. Mukharji's rooms, and tell the popular 
charlatan what he thought of him. And the instrument 
which appeared best to lend itself to the appropriate 
and adequate expression of this opinion, was a good 
old English horsewhip. 

There were many reasons why the horsewhipping of 
Dr. Mukbarji appealed strongly to the taste of Captain 
Gaythome. In the first place Charlie hated the Hindoo 
because the latter had once wanted to marry Fabia • 
and no man really likes the other men who have wished 
to marry his wife. In the second place Charlie was far 
too normal and healthy-minded an Englishman to 
entertain anything but disgust and contempt for any 
juggling with the supernatural: he disapproved of 
everything of the nature of occultism, spiritualism, or 
prying mto the future, classing them all t<«ether in his 
own pellucid mind under the generic term of "rot" 
And thirdly Charlie loathed Dr. Mukharji, because he 
held the latter entirely responsible for the present state 
of affairs. Fabia was young and inexperienced : but— 
as he aiyued, and argued with some reason— Mukharji 
(or, as he called biai, "that confounded nigger") was 
old euough to understand the irreparable mischief he 
was causing by allowing scandal to associate his name 
with that of his beautiful kinswoman. Thus Chariie 
hated Ram Chandar with a threefold cord of hate, and 
decided to deal with his enemy as it pleased him. 

Fabia and her husband were sitting tt^ether at 
breakfast one morning, close upon the end of the 
•ewoa It was always Fabia's habit to rise early : she 
had learnt it in India: and the English custom of 



Captain Oastbome'e Doreewblp 31 > 

getting up late never appealed to her. Neither did she 
enjoy having her breakfast In her own room, with 
nobody to talk save her old ayah, Saidie, who now 
AilfiUeJ the part of maid to her. She liked life and 
society ; she hated solitude and dulness ; and although 
she found Charlie dull enough, still even he was better 
than the ayah, who never did anything but echo all 
that her mistress chose to say. Charlie did not do very 
much more, It must be confessed : but Mrs. Gaythome 
did— that dear woman never erred on the side of being 
too subservient to anybody. On this particular day, 
however, the cries of the South Sea Islanders for 
disused Sunday at Homti had apparently become so 
Importunate that Mrs. Gaythome had risen while 
It was yet night to attend a breakfast-meeting which 
had been organized In order to s&tisfy the spiritual 
hunger of the heathen abroad, and the more physical 
necessities of their Committee at home. 

" How are you going to amuse yourself to-day, my 
pet? "Charlie asked. 

He felt a horrible suspicion that his wife was going 
to see her cousin, but hoped against hope that she 
was not 

Fabia sighed wearily. 

" How am I going to amuse myself? Not at all. I 
may try various means for the securing of that end, but 
it is a foregone conclusion that they will none of them 
prove successful," she replied. 

Charlie's kindly face at once assumed an expression 
of sympathy. He pitied Fabia profoundly for having 
ma: :ed a fool, but he did not see how the evil was to 
be cured. 

" Poor old girl ! I wish to goodness that I could hit 
upon something to amuse you I " 



Stt 



9n SttMectlon 



could r* *° «««•"«•-<»' •»« to btdnew-thttyo. 
.n5SV*^"""''""»^^-'^«»«"yeb«nr.. -Doe. 

dl W to^m^ ~"" •• '* "**""* •"•"« • ~n.ldcr.ble 

the"S;;i;r ' "^'^ ^^ ''» "°» «» »"•/ p-o- ^ 

"FoTtuMtd^not" 
E«ntteiiu» worn JM not Wra 

tII^'*'""!'^*^'""" Thank yoa- 

talking abo^. S of hJhtT" !?** '''"""' "''« 
men-fpoor bitM, a~ ?" *"** -ntiment, that 

«ntin,ental wa^Jath Mrp7„I ILto',"^' -''*'"""■ 

" Still i» I. __•!.. . "' Seaton is your maa" 

SUM it I, possible that «, midiluted and agXg 



««W«ln ««vt»ome't ftonewMp stj 

^f^^^th iMbel might p.11 In Uine-«.peeWly 
upon another woman." i^wiy 

If "I^^Tn 'L ""«"»=,"'»"«»' »««"y "Pon another m«., 

beggar •© crwked on his wife In ray life; .nd after 
being married all thi. time, tool He I n't like a 

It £ „r . "u* '"y* '"'^ •'" »° '"•''« »h« ««>»t of 
™on, .„rK' °*'^.' " "y'^^'y «'•« *»'«'' »•»'» »n the 

ST; "^„;..'* ""'^' •*""""« "" «•" *» ^ *«»t 

Infat«tfo!l"'Th'°*'!'^ r^""'' '* themen'oryof Paul-. 

Le S£! 3 v^ •°°"f"' *^ *•""> •" 'ho very 
wme thing done by ounelve* A joke, like an oil- 
NnUng, i, best appreciated when ^'from a lit^e 
Sf!l^ „r k' """ P«rf«'™»»'ce of an act at once rob. 
wn ^ ""* "'"*"' '* *'"> dig„ity~in our 

"I thought you approved of that sort of thing," said 
Fabk^ldly. "You once told me that your fatLSd 
great stress upon the sanctity of marriaga- 

fo, f/ ^rt •*',i'\^'f ' "»*""* tremendous stickler 

th:;^t™MT.''jiXn':ptc5rd^? '- ^-^'^^^-'- 

it "IZT '"^J"""^. ** •"■"' ' •d™'« ">e fellow i , 

Sems .Tir ""'^'Z '*" *"" y^"' But somehiw 

^^^ J?' """"^ ^°' ■" °'<J fc"ow of that age to 

ftt^ J^k'*^"^- Why if he's a day. he mS£ 

01 youth, at his own wit and the Seatons' folly. 



3'4 



9n SnOiectton 



Fabia smiled too. It struck her as so distinctly 
comic for her husband to be laughing at the Seatons 
and good-humouredly tolerating them. 

" Then I gather that your late father would have 
commended the admirable Seaton." 

"Great Scott, yes: just a little! I commend him 
myself. He's not a bad sort, good old Paul ! But as 
for my father, you should just have heard him on the 
subject of how husbands ought to obey and reverence 
their wives. And so they ought. They're told to in 
the Bible, or something on the same lines, don't you 
know? I'm a poor hand at quotations, but I fancy 
that's the idea." 

" It is a good thing that Mrs. Gaythome is not present, 
or she would make you look it up in the Commentary 
after breakfast" 

"By Jove, so she would I The dear old mater never 
can bear me to be shaky about the hang of a text : she 
likes it all cut and dried, and committed to memory. I 
remember once when I was a little chap there was a 
harvest-thanksgiving at a Methodist Chapel— the place 
where she went to when old Cattley made such an 
ass of himself over the Psalm-business — and what 
should catch her eye the minute she got up from 
that face-in-the-hat affair at the beginning, but a 
cross worked on the beam-end of_ the pulpit in 
white chrysanthemums, or Michaelmas - daisies, or 
some other flower of that persuasion, don't you 
know?" 

Fabia knew only too well— so well that she felt it 
would asphyxiate her to know it any bett;/; so she 
rose from the finished meal and the unfinished story, 
and left the room, saying as she went: "You'd better 
put 'To be continued,' and finish the tale some other 



<raptafn Oastbotne'a ftorsevpbip 315 

time. Seria publication is the only form possible for 
stones of st ;h a lenRth as that one." 

Charlie sav quite .til', after she had gone: for a fevv 
minutes he was too completely crushed to move. Then 
other thoughts roused him. "I wonder if she's off to 
that d-d scoundrel." he said to himself. "I expect 
hes come round her with his devilish hypnotisnT or 
some vile humbug of that sort, and the poor girl can't 
resist him. By Jove, if I was sure of that, I'd blow his 
brains out ! " Then a sudden idea struck him. « Great 
Scott I 1 11 go straight to Jhe brute's place now, and see 
what the skunk is up to ; and if I find Fabia there— I " 
Anyone who had seen Charlie's face then, would hardly 
have recognized the usually good-tempered Captain 
Gaythorne. 

It was not long before Charlie put his threat into 
execution, and jumped into a hansom, taking with him 
a brand-new riding-whip which he had only bought a 
few days ago. But quick as he had been, somebody 
else had been quicker: he dismissed his cab at the end 
of Mount Street and walked the rest of the way 
Another hansom overtook him ; but as it was going the 
same way as he was, he did not see the occupant until 
It pulled up a few paces in front of him at the door of 
the house in which were Dr. Mukharji's rooms : and out 
of that hansom stepped Fabia. 

This was enough, but it was not all. 

She did not stop to ring the bell : she was too much 
at home for that: she opened the door by means »( a 
Utchkey and went straight in, shutting the front-door 
behind her, and leaving her husband-whom she had 
not seen— standing stupified on the pavement 

Then Charlie saw red. 

Htt wife to pontH the latchkey of another man's house 



m 



316 



3n SnDiectfon 



so that she could go in and out undetected I The mere 
Idea of such a thing was insufferable, and drove him to 
absolute frenzy. It proved an intimacy bf iween Fabia 
and the occupant of that house far greater than Charlie 
had ever insulted his wife by supposing possible. If 
she had a latchkey to her cousin's rooms—? Well, the 
scandal-mongers were not so far out after all I 

Charlie was obliged to walk a little way up the street 
Md back again in order to steady himself. He knew 
that If he rushed straight into Dr. Mukharji's presence, 
he should kill the m?n then and there; and for Fabia's 
sake he did not wish that murder should be done. But 
after a turn or two in the open air his frenzy of rage 
subsided sufficiently to allow him to present himself, as 
any ordmary English genUeman. at the fortune-teller's 
door and to ask in a fairly natural voice if he could see 
Dr. Mukharji. He duly sent in his card, so that there 
might be no mistake ; but he took care to follow closely 
upon It, to prevent the possibility of being denied 
admittance: he also kept his whip in his hand, so that 
tliere might be no mistake about that either. 

His first impression on seeing his enemy was surprise 
at the strong family likeness between the occultist and 
I-abia; Mukharji looked more like her father or her 
elder brother than her distant cousin: and his second 
was still greater surprise that a man as old as Ram 
t-handar should obtain so great an influence over a 
handsome young woman such as Fabia. Youth is 
always sceptical as to middle-age's power to charm. It 
struck Charlie as rather a joke that a man of forty, 
luce Paul Seaton, should be able to fascinate his own 
was; but that a man apparently of about forty-five 
should be able to fascinate Charlie's wife, was consider- 
ably more than a joke— was altogether an inexplicable 



Captein OafitBcrite'9 ftotsewbip 



3'? 



and 



thing to be neither understood nor 



mystery, 
endured. 

While these thoughts raced through Charlie's brain, 
the Oriental came slowly forward with outstretched hand 
and a scornful smile which was the very counterpart of 
Fabia's. "^ 

" How do you do, Captain Gaythorne ? » he said, in his 

low Eastern voice, which was as soft as a woman's: 

allow me to welcome my cousin's husband to my 

humble lodging." ' 

But Charlie put his right hand behind his back 
to where the left one was*^ gently fingering the horse- 

" I haven't come here for any infernal palaver." 
he replied, and his face looked as nobody had seen it 
look except his comrades in action, " IVe come to tell 
you that I won't stand any more of your d-d nonsense, 
ineres been about enough of it as it is." 

The Oriental paused a moment in admiraUon before 
he answered. How splendid these English people were 
when they were angry! When he saw the look on 
Charlies face he understood why the English wherever 
they go are the dominant race. Then he began 
suavely : ^ 

" Surely Fabia— " 

But he was promptly cut short by the infuriated 
young giant before him: 

"Mrs. Gaythome's name does not enter into the 
present conversation : please remember that." 

"Tlien may I inquire to what I owe the honour oJ 
this visit? 

The fortune-teller tried to keep up his scornful smile, 
but he was trembling all over. He had never in all his 
lue seen a man look at him as Ch*rlie was looking He 



If. 



sit 



9n Snbiectton 



understood now why the native trii^ei were fn awe of 
Captain Gaythome : he was in awe of the man 
himself. 

" I can soon tell you that I've come to pay my little 
account of what I owe you for your infernal hypnotism 
and treachery and general damnablenesa. That's what 
I've come for; and if you please 111 settle my little bill 
at once." And with that Charlie showed him the horse- 
whip and looked like business : his rage was breaking 
through its leash again. 

The other shook frbm head to foot with sheer fear. 
Charlie saw his enemy's terror and it infuriated him still 
further. What a coward the hound was I 

" Surely you are not going to beat me with that thing," 
pleaded the trembling occultist 

Charlie laughed a grim laugh that was cot altogether 
pleasant to hear : 

" But I am, though. I'm going to thrash yon within 
an inch of your life for bringing your confounded fortune- 
tclhng and hypnotism and all the rest of your infernal 
rot into decent English houses, and among decent 
Englishmen's wives : and then I'm going to pitch your 
miserable little body out of the window. That's what 
Tm going to do, and the sooner it's done the better I 
I ve no pity for d— d scoundrels such as }rou t " 

And as the memory of how this man had come 
between himself and Fabia rushed on Charlie, it 
maddened him so that he lost ail self-control, and sei'^-J 
his enemy by the throat, meaning to shake him as a 
dog might have shaken a rat But before he had tims 
to fulfil his intention, or to bring down the raised horse- 
whip upon the trembling form that was straggling in his 
iron grasp, the slender figure collapsed altogether and 
fell in a heap upon the floor, leavii^; ia ClMrlie's hands 



Captain Oattborne'0 tMrsewblp 319 

a tangled mass of false black hair and beard: and 
Charlie saw lying at his feet no grovelling Indian 
juggler, but the unconscious form of his wife, Fabia 
Gaythome I 



M: 



CHAPTER XXII 

THE EFFECT OF THE HORSEWHIP 

DUHFOUNDERED with amazement and hardly knowing 
what he did, Charlie shouted for help; and the veiled 
attendant came rushing into the room with her veil 
thrown back, thereby disclosing herself to he none other 
than Fabia's old ayah, Saidie. 

" See to your mistress at once," commanded Charlie. 
" I believe I've killed her." And the big man trembled 
now as his wife had trembled a few minutes before. 

" The Memsahib is not dead : she Is only fainting," 
replied the ayah, unfastening her mistress's robe and 
pouring something between the white lips. 

•' Are you sure ? " groaned the distracted man, kneeling 
at her side. 

" Quite sure, Sahib. See ! even now the colour returns 
to the Memsahib's lips, and she begins to recover." 

"Then I must go," said Charlie, rising to his feet. 
" After what I've done I am not fit that she should ever 
look at me again. But first tell me, where is the real 
Dr. Mukharji?" 

" There is no real Dr. Mukharji, Sahib. It has always 
been a play of the Memsahib's." 

« No real Dr. Mukharji ? " Charlie could not believe 
bis ears. 

" No, Sahib. There is Ram Chandar Mukharji out in 
320 



TOcBflfectoftbeiwraewblp 



English life «, du„ „""*»*''»» "^""W «he found tue 

«^Se?^S2---..o.h. 

aeel the Memsahib is nnt ,-.ii u 
opening her eyes." '*^^>' '""*• She is 

'Then I must be off* a^j i, r 

h«d time to unclose fhemsel,«hr *''^'' *^'' 
room and out of the housT "' " **"' °^ ^ 

wl^X''l"ld"rSS*^^°- "«^--''V-led 
treated her so that he h^^^J. J'.**'^" wife-had ill. 
ness ; and he fdt tLat the sh:!""* r 'l'?' '° "•'^"^"W 
He was a b.anded ma„_he C ^ ''°"''' """ '^'"• 
his manhood-^ind he fcft h? disgraced himself and 

head agaia That he ha J atUcTed prbT' '''' "^ ""'^ 
was not of much comfort ■"*?''«d ^abla m ignorance 

unfounded sus^fonTf hfr VT'^ ^ " """ ^^' '»^° 
pass. If he had never doublf ^T-^*"' '""'" *° ^^is 
would not have hao^ned tk .^,!'' '^'' t'-^We thing 
he had knockS doTa womin " ?.?" ''"' ""^''^'^^ 
wife-the wom«. whom he h^H ^' ^°"'*" *"■« *>^ 
cherish: and nothila 2 ''"'^ '*""' *<> 'ove and to 

one thing whS;t^Jdr:tr^"* "^ ''°"« '^'^ 
doing, and he could never ^Z^ J^"" ""^ "" fo' 
blackguard and a cowTj "S? 5""!^"^ "' '^^ * 
drummed out of hi. ^1'*^ ^ descnnd to be 
of such «, offe^L „ ES*; *^%^" no palliation 
wnduct ^"■'^ "«•«« for such dastardly 



Ml 

I 



i' 



»»• 



9n SnUectton 



Such were poor Charlie's meditationi. 

He never attempted to make any excuse for h!mself ; 
excuses were not in Charlie's way. He had done a 
shameful thing and he must abide by the consequences : 
that was the beginning and the end of it 

Of course he should never see Fabia again; she 
would not— nor would any woman in like circumstances 
—be able to endure the sight of such a brute as he had 
proved himself to be. No ; she and his mother must 
continue to reign at Gaythome, and he must go away 
and hide himself as best he could. There was no place 
in decent society for such as he t 

He did not know where to go — what to do: and 
half-unconsciously his steps led him across to Prince's 
Gardens. People in trouble iostinctively turned to 
Isabel: her common-sense and cheerful disposition 
made her a veritable tower of strength to storm-tossed 
souls : and Charlie felt that if anyone could help him 
in this terrible strait, it was Isabd .. .aton. Naturally 
he clung to his mother for comfort : but even the filial 
Charlie could not but see that Isabel was far more of a 
woman of the world than was Mrs. Gaythome, and 
therefore more competent to advise him what to do 
in a matter of this kind. 

So he went straight to Isabel, and fortunately found 
her at home ; and he told her the whole story, extenu- 
ating nothing with regard to his own conduct, nor 
setting down aught in malice with regard to Fabia's. 
Isabel was one of the rare women who can not only 
talk cleverly but can also listen cleverly ; and therefore 
she heard Charlie's tale to the end in silence, her 
expressive face alive with sympathy. One of her 
many gifts was that she could always put herself in 
another's place and see a thing from another's point of 



«be Effect Of tbe twrsewbfp 3,, 

vJew: it Is an attribute never l.rW„™ i j 

P*™m. ifterefore she understood both CharliV JTa 
rabias position in the nr*...,* • • . *-"'"'* «nd 
with bolS accoriingly ^ ^ ""'"' '"'' V«'P»thi«d 

When Charlie had finished his recital T«K-i ju 
say much ,- she knew h- h.j " ' ' .f °*' «*'«J not 
listen : and he then cL^aTI ^° ''"^ *"*• "»» ^ 
banish himself frtVswttd^^^^^^^^ '"''"*'''" *« 
leave his insulted Tndo^'SSwirtorei^^'^r"' *" 
disturbed in his stead. It^^hu n J ?^. ''*"* """ 
himself to do theSg iaWodd £t"If "L"" ff 
witiiout first settingabouttodSver^hattth ' "'"^• 

^dshemadeupher-nSdlr^StiTL^^^^^^^ 

of a reproach against her. She is all ,i,rK» k? u 
M I mieht hav7 lrn«™T fu ^ *"'• "''*" her 

And poor Charlie looked out of the window so that 

Isabel remembered Browning's lines- 

"Would it we« I had been febe-not r^ , 
I tlutt am nothlnsr, not yon tliat ate U • 



i 



I <l 



iff 



;1 



^-::-> 



s*4 Sn Snbiectloit 

And the felt that the man In the poem would agree with 
CapUin Gaytborne that in this case the wont had not 
happened. 

Her voice was very gentle as she said: "Poor boy! 
Things have gone crooked, haven't they? Now what 
can I do to set then straight again ? " 

She knew perfectly well what she was going to do; 
but she thought it much better that the suggestion 
should come from Charlie himself. Wise women rarely 
make valuable suggestions : they guide men into making 
them, and then they earry them out It is the surest— 
in fact the only — way of avoiding masculine opposition. 
If they ?M vjry wise women indeed, they begin with a 
slight demur : this not only ensures the carrying out of 
the suggestion on the part of the man concerned— it 
ensures its being carried out with enthusiasm. 

" That" s just what I'm coming to," replied Charlie. 

But he did not come at once: it took him all his 
time just then to avoid what Wolsey would have called 
" playing the woman," but what Charlie himself would 
have described as " making a blooming ass of himself." 

The wily Isabel thought aloud. "I wonder how 
Fabia is now." 

" Thaf s what I'm coming to," repeated Charlie : and 
this time he came. " I want you to be so awfully good 
as to take a hansom at once and run round and just see 
how she is, and how badly the poor darling is knocked 
about I should be so tremendously grateful if you 
would I And then you can just tell her that she need 
never see me again, for I'm not fit for it" 

And once again the big tears hung on Charlie's 
golden eyelashes. 

"Of course, my dear Charlie, she'll be very angry at 
first : you can't wonder at that ; but I don't believe she 



TCDe Effect of tbe Dorsewbip 3,5 

Jrt ov«, it You Me. you dJdn't mean to knock her 

elZ"* ^ ''^'' '' ^ ""'' «»' "^^^^ ">•'. "nd »he won't 
Simple natures look alwavi at n....t».. i 

^ wtl "•• ^' ,"'"''• •" '^^ «*'•«■«««. don't y^ 
^I^^^/"" "" '^"** *»' * '■«"«"' «" not There'" 
nothing U,at a woman won't forgive if ,he is aL 
precious little that .he will if ,he isn't " 
Isabels heart overflowed with pity for the bip man 

SlT„;' "'^ *'"''°'^- "« »-™^ '-ha E>y 
alter all, and such an unhappy bov 

"Well. Charlie.- she said cWully, gettine un from 
her chair, "ring the bell and tell Perknftowhistie'^" 
a hansom, while I go .nd put on my hat „S m 
run round to Fabi. at once and see how she 1^ An3 
m.nd-ifIdo this for you-you must prom-i n.e ta 
return to stay hero till I come bacJc" 

There was a despairing look on the boyish face that 

vJt^^" ^ ^'^ "■"'P'y- And she knew that he 
was inapable of breaking his word. "But tellher" 

^t^TT^ :^' ii;.*^ "'"* »- '>-PP«°2 she'd 

bts^irt"h";.:r£eT'^"'«"^-^ s'^^*- 



St« 



Sn Sntjection 



'Ml 

hi 

n 

si 



" I lee ; and I'll give you her message." 

Aa aoon ai Isabel had gone, and there was no need 
to keep up any longer, Charlie sat down on the sob 
and sobbed like a child. He cried as he bad not cried 
since his father's death: for there seemed the same 
upheaval of all known laws— the same awful transition 
of the ordinary and familiar things of life into some 
dread and horrible nightmare — now us then. And now 
as then poor Charlie felt that he should never be happy 
again. 

FaUa meanwhile was undergoing a new and strange 
experience. 

She was not long In recovering from the shock of 
Charlie's assault upon her, as he had not had time 
really to hurt her before she fell unconscious at his 
feet, and in so doing revealed her identity : but although 
she was physically none the worse for this unparalleled 
incident, she was mentally completely changed thereby. 

As she gradually grasped what had happened, and 
re-enacted the scene in her own mind again and again, 
her feelings for her husband underwent a total 
revolution. When she saw him towering above her in 
his righteous indignation, and literally trembled at his 
wrath, she realized for the first time that this man was 
her master: she understood at last that what she had 
mistaken for the cowardice of a weak man was in reality 
the patience of a strong one— that what she had despised 
as a sign of vacillating feebleness, was really the out- 
come of infinite self-controL Her husband had not 
endured and condoned her insolence and ill-temper 
because he had not the power to control her: but 
because he had the power to control himself 

As with her usual qwckoen Fabia comprehended 
bow totally she had misunderstood and misinterpreted 



tb« Effect of tbe tMrsewbip 397 

Charlie'! dealings with her, her emotional as well a< her 
mental attitude towardi him changed. She had scorned 
the man whom she believed to be her slave ; but her 
•pint humbled itself in the dust before him whom she 
recognised aa her master. As she had fallen in love 
with Gabriel when he showed himself morally stronger 
than she, so now she fell in love with Charlie because 
he had shown himself physically stronger than she : and 
she fell in love all the more deeply this time, because 
she was one of those to whom the material world Is 
ever more present than the spiritual And Charile had 
not only showed himself her superior as regards mere 
brute force: there had been a look in his eye when he 
imagined that he was dealing direct with Dr. Mukharjl, 
before which a braver man than Ram Chandar would 
have quailed : much less a hlghly-strung woman such 
as Fabia. 

Herein she showed her Oriental blood and training. 
An English woman would have resented the outrage to 
her feminine dignity, even If she did homage to the 
virile strength which prompted it : but FabIa belonged 
to a race whose women had long lived In slavery, 
hugging their chains: and when she recognized her 
lord and master, she fell at his feet and owned his 
authority, loving him all the more in that he had used 
her roughly and treated her with contempt As long 
as her husband placed the sceptre in her hands, she 
merely belaboured him with It ; but as soon as he took 
his rightful place and invested himself with the insignia 
of his own sovereignty, there was no more humble and 
devoted subject to be found In the whole realm of 
matrimony than ihe. 

Hot soul h«l lotqf ago been ctying out for Its master, 
•ad bad only so far fomd its oMte: now that at last it 



1: 



3*i 



^n SttMectioit 



had discovered its rightful lord, it was ready to fold its 
tired wings in the shelter of his strong arms, and there 
to make its permanent resting-place. 

When Isabel arrived at the rooms in Mount Street, 
the ayah ushered her at once into FabU's presence. 
The latter was lying on a sofa looking rather pale and 
shaken, but otherwise none the worse for what had 
happened For a second or two Isabel stood looking 
at her ; and then simultaneously the two women burst 
out laughing. 

"It was a magniGcept hoax, Fabia!" cried Isabel, as 
soon as she could speak; "simply magnificent I I 
wouldn't have believed that any woman could have 
taken in half London so completely I " 

" I think it was cleverly done." 

" Clever? It was marvellous ! And do you mean to 
say that Ram Chandar never came to England at all ? " 

"Never. I wanted him to do so, but he refused. 
And then I thought what fun it would be to personate 
him and perform some of the tricks which he had 
taught me. And it was fun I Glorious fun 1 " 

" I can believe it: It must have been simply killing 
to hear all those women's secrete and give them advice. 
I should have adored doing it I " 

"Idld." 

"But what made you begin in the first instance?" 
Isabel asked. 

" Dulness— dulness, pure and simple. I was so bored 
that I felt I must do something to amuse myself or else 
I should go mad : and this seemed a fairly harmless and 
yet absorbing pastime." 
" It was brilliantly contrived and carried out" 
« It was quite simple. Saidie took the rooms for me, 
tnd I dressed up in native dren and a false black w^ 



tbe Bflfect Of tbe Dorsewbip 3*9 

own fortune : Charhe alway. refuses to touch a penny 
money at one", comniand. everything is easy." ^ 
of h« ^n?" "''^'•'"' "^'^ *° ^«'-' ^ P-'n-rt 

♦i,"".*u""'!. "*** '^ "^'•*« »« some bruises on rav 

thn«t. but that is alL I am quite right agaln^ow Se 

faintness soon passed oflr.* -s»'nnow,uie 

" Fabia, I have come to plead with you for him. He 

fif . 3T " T..*** f" »'*'" •«"■" = ^^ thinks he isn't 
fit; and he is full of a wild scheme of disaooearinJ 

mother. He even says he will go quietly awav and 
.hoot himself if you'd rather he\J dS Z "h 
Fab.al won'tyouforgivehim? He did not know what 

AnnTh °"*' "'^ "'"'«' broken-hearted abouMt" 
And there were tears in Isabel's eyes 

to S^^vi"'"" """'"^^ "^°*^ •"■•»' What have I 

von "fi "".'^^^"g knocked you down and hurt 
h! ; v,^^ "plained. « And after all, as I said to him 
he didn't know it was yon." ' 

" What if he had known ? I am his wife." 

ul^JZT. i**^'' *"" *" '°°'' P»«'«J- "1 don't 
we what that has to do with it" 

do"iS'i^S' 7"* °" " "^^ *o •••*« '^"ytJ'ing to 
i^rifit"^^ — ha. the right to dTw Jhe 

I»bel gasped. To her Wertern ideas this was heresy 



n 



«• 



^n SnMectfoit 



indeed; but Fabia, the daughter of a loni; line of 
Eastern women, saw the matter in a different light It 
was one of her inherited instincts— instincts which had 
come down to her through the purdah and the harem— 
that a husband is a lord and master, and a wife a chattel 
and a slave ; and instinct is ever stronger than reason, 
especially in elemental natures. 

"Then do you mean to say that you don't resent his 
having treated you like that ? Oh, Fabia I " 

" Resent it 7 No ; a thousand times no I And more 
than that," added Fa^ia, sitting up in her eagerness, a 
soft light coming into her beautiful eyes, "it has 
changed my whole life ; for it has made me fall 
in love with Charlie — fall in love with my own 
husband!" 

" What do you mean 7 " Isabel was so interested that 
she could hardly speak. 

" I mean that at last I see what a fool I have been, 
and that there isn't — and never was — any other man in 
the world but Charlie I Isabel, don't you understand ? 
I used to despise him because he was so meek and 
gentle, and always let me have my own way and be as 
rude to him as I liked : and I believed it was because 
he was weak and feeble and not a real maa Bat I was 
a blind fool I" The usually deliberate Fabia was now 
so excited that she could not get out her words &st 
enough: they tumbled one over the other. "But when 
he thought I was a man, and a man that he hated, be 
treated me as he treats other men, and I recognized 
him for the man he is. Oh, you should have seen him 
when be sakl he was going to thrash me: he looked 
aitatHf splendid I " 

" I never heard of such a thing in my life I " 

IsU>el was still vcU-n^ sp e ech l es s. This Oiiental 



Vbc £iiect of tbc twrsewbip 331 

attitude of mind was a thing as yet undreamed of in 
her philosophy. 
Fabia went on : 

"When I saw him look like that, I loved him— loved 
him with all my heart and soul and strength. And 
when he took hold of me, and I felt like a reed in his 
grasp, I simply worshipped him. I thought he was 
going to kill me, and that made me adore him all the 
more. I shouldn't have cared if he had : it would have 
been a splendid death to be killed by his hand I " 

Isabel continued to gasp from sht-.^ amazement : this 
new Fabia was a revelAion to her. Mrs. Seaton was 
Occidental to her finger tips ; and the idea of being slain 
by Paul's hand did not appeal to her in the very least 

"Now I know what he looks like in a battle," 
continued Fabia; "now I know why his men are 
afraid of him I He is a splendid hero, and I have 
been treating him aa if he were a stupid child What 
a fool— what an arrant fool— I have been I " 

By this time it occurred to Isabel that it might be 
well for the hero to learn the surprising results of his 
prowess. She judged— and judged rightly— that he 
would be, if possible^ more astonished and certainly 
more delighted than she herself: 

"Fabia, I'm going to fetch him," she cried, springing 
to her feet 

Fabia caught her dress: 

"No, no: he will never forgive me. I'm not fit that 
he should ever speak to me again after the way I have 
treated him. Why, I used to jeer at him and fiout him, 
and all the while I was not fit to black his boots I " 

Isabd bust oat laughing. It was very fiinny to 
hear Fafata speak.ag of CharUe in so much Uk same 
terms as he bad spoken of her. 



san 



.9n Snl>jectton 



Well, M you say yon aren't fit to black hb boot^ 
and as he has just told me that he iin't fit to black 
yours, I should advise you both to go in for brown 
boots in the future, if you want them well cleaned!" 
And then she hurried back to the waiting Charlie. 
He started up as she came into the room. 
"How is she? What did she say? Can she ever 
forgive me?" His questions followed each other in 
rapid succession, never waiting for an answer. 

" It's an right," replied Isabel, as if she were speaking 
to an unhappy child. « There's nothing to worry about" 
"She isn't badly hurt?" 

"She isn't hurt at WL And, oh I Charlie, the most 
kiUmg thmg has happened. She has fallen in love 
with you I " 
Charlie looked dazed. 

" Fallen in love with me after I've been such a brute 
to her ? What in heaven's name do you mean ? " 
" I mean exactly what I say." 
And then Isabel told him, as briefly as she could, of 
the unexpected turn that things had taken. 

As she had antidpated, he was as much i>dtonished 
as she had been; in &ct this good news— following 
so closely on his recent despair— was almost too much 
for him. But he quickly pulled himself together like 
the man he was. 

" By Jove, this beats cock-fighting I " was all that he 
could say at first ; and he said it several times. Then, 
as the effects of the shock gradually subsided, he 
announced his intention of going with «ll possible 
speed to his newly-reconciled wife. 

« Go at once," replied Isabel, who was nothing if not 
practical. " I kq>t my hansom, as I knew you'd want 
one in a hurry." 



Vbe EOect or tbe Dorsewbip 333 

"Mrs. Seaton, you're a brick I" cried Charlie, gnuping 
her hand till the rings cat into her fingers, and almost 
made her scream. 

"But look here, Charlie," she added, laying her 
uninjured hand upon his arm, "don't go and make 
the old mistake over again. You have won Fabia's 
love by showing her that you are her master; now 
don't go and throw it away again by behaving like 
her slave." 
"But I can't behave like a brute tj the poor darlingi" 
" Yes, you can : like a nice brute. The long and 
the dhort of it is, Chailie, that you've been much too 
meek: women don't like meekness— especially Eastern 
women; they spell it 'with a 'w,' and despise it 
Remember the husband is the head of the wife, and 
must behave himself accordingly." 
" Is he ? " Charlie looked doubtful. 
"So the Bible tells us." 

"Does it, by Jove? Well, there's no getting round 
the Bible, is there?" 
"Certainly not" 

" I've always had a sort of notion that it was the 
other way on— that the wife was the head of the 
husband. But I suppose I was up a wrong street" 

" You were : an absolutely wrong one," replied Isabel 
firmly. But considering that his own mother had been 
the living epistle known and read of Charlie, she felt 
that she could not altogether blame him for this 
misinterpretation of revealed truth. 

" Well, rU try and get the right hang of the thing 
this time," cried Charlie, as he escaped from Isabel and 
sprang into the cab. 

Both he and Fabia were solely exercised as to what 
they should first say to each other: they composed 



r 



SS4 



5n SntiectUm 



retoM of pretty confessions which never saw the light 
But when the moment came they said nothing at all, 
but just flew into each other's arms, and blotted out 
all their pa.«t misunderstanding and misery with kisses. 
As a patent past-eraser there is nothing equal to a kiss: 
it will remove every stain, and make things generally as 
good as new. Some people endeavour to erase things 
by means of explanations; but these are not a succeu: 
they nearly always leave a larger mark tiian the 
orginal one, as benzene often does. But kisses rarely 
If ever fail: they clear away everything: provided, of 
coarse, that the genuine article is used, and not a 
counterfeit And the genuine article comes straight 
irom t'ne heart 



CHAPTER XXIII 

A SBCOMD GABRIEL 

JOgI at first Charlie wa« sorely tempted to fall into bis 
old misUke of making himself into a door-mat for Fabia 
to walk upon, and thus once more upsetting the apple- 
cart which had so recently regained its equilibrium ; but, 
supported by Isabel's constant encouragement, be nobly 
ttniggled against the old man that was in him, and 
bravely endeavoured to put on the new man of whom 
he himself so heartily disapproved. And bis efforts 
were amply rewarded by bis wife's increasing devotion 
to him. As she said one day to Isabel: "When he 
looks particularly adoring, wiUi that old dog. like 
expression of abject devotion, I just shut my eye^ 
Md see his face as it appeared that day in Mount 
Street: and then I worship him more than ever." 

She kept the riding-whip as a sacred treasure, and 
fondled it at intervals : the humour of which arrangement 
strongly appealed to Mrs. Seaton. 

" I think it is perfectly fascinating of you to cherish a 
horsewhip as a relic," she remarked:' "it is so much 
more onginal than flowers and letters and ordinary 
rubbishy things of that kind. I've got hidden away 
somewbwe-goodness knows where I_a spray of rosM 
and maUen^iair that Paul once gave me before we 
were engaged : and now the roMs look like Krapa of 
335 



S3< 



9n snblectton 



worn-out boot-leather, and the fern like dried essence 
of miot-iance. But a horsewhip never grows old I It 
will be as fresh a hundred years hence as it is to-day 
—and as full of meanlnE." 

Fabia Unshed. " Yes ; the meaning is fairly 
obvious." 

" That* s one of the beauties of It Flowers want such 
a lot of letter-press to explain there special fragrance. 
Ben Jonson had to write a whole song to expound to 
the uninitiated that his rosy wreath smelt 'not of 
Itself but thee ' : an4 my aforesaid rosy wreath smells 
neither of myself nor of Paul, but of decayed vegetation. 
But a horsewhip requires no explanation : it smells of 
leather and speaks for Itself: and he who runs may 
read, as may also he who runs away." 

" ifou would not have liked a whip as a relic, Isabel : 
you know you would not It would be to you a symbol 
of all that you most disliked In a husband." 

Isabel sighed : 

"Perhaps not; but I wish Fd something more 
Interesting to treasure up than dried herbage : and I 
don't even know where that Is! It is so fearfully 
commonplace to express love by means of roses, and 
so original to express it by means of a horsewhip I " 

"Not so original among the lower classes, I 
fancy." 

"Perhaps not But the whole heart of the great 
middle-class offers itself to its respective young women 
by the token of roses and maiden-hair: and it is the 
love of the great middle-class that Is so respectable and 
soduUI" 

>But my dear Isabel, I thought thiit yoa prided 
yourself upon belonging to the great middle-class ; and 
upon being absolutely normal and commonplace." 



a sec<m^ oabttci jj, 

.h JiSce'!^ ' °"**''''°'» «'««" i° FaW.'. eye- a. 
Of It To tell the truth ft is one of my favourite noses." 
«ady to laugh at herself. " Now I come to thin^ of ft 

lZn:,f"^ *^»* *• «»"""'« of my life S 
enbalmed in the absolutely ordinao' and normal form 
of a spray of roses and maiden-hair- and I .h.li 1^ 
about finding it at once, and tn«suring ?t .ci,Slv • 
^ugh I can't for the life of me rem! mbeVwSefc 

Fabia was right : the submission which was delightful 
t^^brlfw* ?'"'*'• The Eastern „a33 

Ip.SSnclSJni"-'' •" '- °- -^y ^">«"«i the 
rhtli """^ ^!'''* "° ''*''«" grumbled at the length of 
beginning to end, laughing and applauding at the rigS 
mwnents. as a good wife should. Even fa the sto^ of 
Mrs. Gaythome and the harvest - thanksgiving she 
murmured responses of the correct sort at «.e for^J 

il^.;^«fi^^**'"« °"^ " » *>**y^ amusing^ 
well as profitable, to see a wifely wife listening to her 

-^ses. «,d she'St tm alm^t^h^^re t ht 

n,.T*^Z,V,S'»" » not too enthusiastic -not too 

frtrl*^ *"■ "^ ""* «'""««1 •• that she leav« 
for tho«» of the audience (if there be any such) ito 



S)S 



9n Snblcction 



have never heard the tale before. She does not Uigh 
herself: she merely shows others when to laugh. In 
short, she uses li menUl tuning-fork, and starts the 
tune for the others to sing: and she generaUy affords 
the same official support to the reciter of the anecdote 
as the clerk affords to hU parish priest 

At the end of July the Gaythomes duly migrated to 
their country house ; and there found Mrs. Carr and her 
daughter-in-law pursuing the even tenor of their way 
uneheered by any news of Gabriel It seemed, indeed. 
u If the lost Rector were blotted out of exUtence: and 
as If that passing glimpse in the Parisian theatre were 
the last that would ever be seen of him by those who 
had known him in his former state of existence. 

Janet was very calm, very resigned ; and her love 

for her husband stood the test of time and of absence^ 

remaining as firm and devoted as ever. She carried 

the art of perfect wifehood to a point not attained by 

Fabia or by Isabel They loved and honoured and 

obeyed men who would only be obeyed in spite of 

themselves ; men who freely and chivalrously offered 

the submission and devotion which they had the right 

to demand : men who in spite of (or, rather, perhaps on 

account oQ their divine right of kingship, always 

rendered to the consort the special honour and the 

higher plac The theory of wifely submission might 

be naturally acceptable to FabIa and naturally 

unacceptable to Isabel: they approached the question 

from the opposite sides of two hemispheres : but the 

practice of the thing was simply child's play where such 

men as Paul Seaton and Charlie Gaythome were 

concerned. -. t j 

But with poor Janet it was different She had sworn 
allegiance to » monarch who bad vacated bU throne as 



a 8econ5 OaOdei ^ 

•eon M he h«d the right to occupy it: she owed h^ 
«.bml,„o„ to . king who had flung away Si, c^ th^ 

SS^.^^J'^*"'""''!^' "" '''>'»"y unchanged She 
^jSk *".■. ''"''*"'' '^ho had apparently 
repudiated her without the slightest reason for i^ 
do^ng; and yet her wifely devotion was S^deeo -n^ 
.»«orbing a, it h«l been on her maTSlg^da^ She 

h":; KKr^^rht^si"'""j'' •'-^ w^w 

»„ i.!Jl!^ '"^^ ^*^ happened, and to love and 

and uttering no «pA»ches: and. should he ne^ 
reh.™ to her. to mourn for him ail the days o? h^ 
retcrngl-e^:- ^« ^" -- ^onou^-g'a^n^ 

o.e?pH?o?7L*?s^r irll^V-l 
«w heaven and a new earth, so new and so wonSu! 
ttat for a t.me sorrow and sighing fled away, and he 
A^t^^^K w«« forgotten. In the middle o 
^tr«irt ^f ^ '"•' ""' ^"^ '•'" *'"«='«^*> 'he high. 
^Z ^- "'".'" *PP'"*"- «"'' «t««d into L 

^y parad.se: that paradise which was open«l to 

whereof have never yet been dosed. Tue those «t^ 
are sun guarded by the twin cherubl.n. Ww^and 
Suflenng. whose fiery swords pierce to the veTbonS 

S^" '"**^^*« ""* i«pregnable:rdS^ 
W«^ among women who win through those fic^r 

a7Sn^» r'!^'* *** °'^' »"«• «'"J themselves restfng 

itoriraSrofC"*^'^ ^- ^ "»-? 



340 



9n SnMectfm 



of the people who coniider that the world was made 
for men only, and that glrli and women are merely 
padding. To bear a son, was in Mrs. Can's mind, the 
height of feminine hononr and glory : to bear a daughter, 
only one degree more creditable than being an old maid. 
It is not an. uncommon type ; and it came to perfection 
in the early Victorian age. 

Mrs. Gaythome was as early-Victorian as Mrs. Carr ; 
but in this respect the two ladies fundamentally differed. 
It was the grief of Mrs. Gaythome's life that she had 
never had a daughter ito train up in the way that she 
herself had so ably and so firmly trod : and she had 
abundant sympathy with the regret which the immortal 
aunt of David Copperiield summed up in the expression, 
"Your sister, Betsy Trotwood." Even now Mrs. Gay- 
thome's maternal mind bristled with devices whereby 
Charlie's sister— if he had ever bad one— might have 
benefited the human race. A son was all very well, 
she admitted: he could fight for his country, and he 
could follow in his father's footsteps and step into his 
father's shoes : but he could neither conduct a Mother's 
Meeting nor regulate a Ladies' Needlework Guild, and 
it was no use pretending that he could. Yet duties 
such as these might — and probably would— have been 
ably fulfilled by his sister, if only he had had one: 
therefore Mrs. Gaythome never ceased to regret the 
absence of that amiable and efficient young lady. 

Thus it followed that Mrs. Gaythome seriously 
objected to the sex of Janefs baby ; and was the more 
deeply rooted in this objection— which she experienced 
more or less towards every mother's son whose advent 
was chronicled in the first column of the Timts—by 
the peculiar circumstances of the case. In the first 
pl»ce, she vgued in her ovn mind, it waa £»r more 






a Second Oabciei ^, 

SSS S7l„i? ~* •"" '"'"'y to m-ke for tiS 

SS^^^r^ '" "'"• ^""^'""^ '™-> «"• 

But Janefi happineu was completa God had vlvon 
to her the d«l« of her heart-k «n toill GabS 
place and to Uke Gabriel', name-and » 2e tL 

!a^ thT/'^rS *''^- i[°"«'"» '" •'«' hu.banyS 
•hare thw new blias with her: but .he was one of 
^h^se rare people Wo really «,d truly have fZ In 

do the devils who believe and tremble: but how mkn^ 

—without Whom not even a sparrow can fall to Jh. 
ground, and yet Who calleth thS^^ by tit Lt 

«tt;ei™"^'S''r'' .""'^ ™»"y °^ usVciu ,rhod 

nothS! « K •* °'"" *""" "« '" "" H-nds, and that 

tuZ u'^^J?' !^* P'*^'" °' o" doubTfoT Se 
future ? If we believed with our hearts what we n™f«. 
w.th our lip,, that all things work t^tht JoT oS ^ 
hem that love Him. according t^His p^m^^^ 
should mount up with wings as eagles and ^o" d waTk 

forcbodmg for the future, every doubt, every fejT- 
•o many contradictions of Hii Worf TZ, ', 

r we^if'^rs""* And^thus^'s^^Cor'Lis; 

bon. we limit the power of God ; and He c«uS 



34* 



$n Subjection 



do many mighty works among us because of om 
unbelief. 

But Janet Carr was so rooted and grounded in the 
faith that all things are made by Him, and without Him 
was not anything made that was made, that she accepted 
all the orderings of her life as direct from Him, and 
therefore never chafed nor rebelled. She was as certain 
that the cloud which had darkened her life had been 
sent by God, as she was certain that the birds and the 
flowers were the works of His Hands: and she Lnew 
that all things were working together for her good, how- 
ever hard it might be just now to understand their why 
and their wherefore. 

There was much consultation and discussion over the 
baby's name, the fact that his mother had already 
settled it in no way interfering with the full exprenion 
of Mrs. Gaythorne's views upon the subject 

" If only it had been a girl," she remarked, as she and 
Mrs. Carr were sitting by Janet's sofa, " it might have 
been called after Me." As usual shes used the capital 
letter in speaking of herself. " I approve of children 
being named after their god-parents." 

Janet had already asked Mrs. Gaythome to act as 
god-mother: that lady seemed so admirably fitted to 
renounce the devil and all his works on behalf of anybody 
or everybody. 

•' So it might," agreed Janet : " but being a boy there 
are difiiculti«s in the way. I never heard of a boy's 
being christmed Eliza." 

" Neither did I, my dcr ; nor should I approve of 
such a thing. I do not like boys to be christened by 
girls' names ; it savonrs of Popery. There is nothing that 
shocks me more than to hear of Roman CatboUc kings 
beiii^ called ' Joseph Mary,' and mixed names like that" 



a Second Oabriei 343 

til^VU "f''«^ J"»«t. demurely "I agree with you 
that Eliza is not a suiUble name for a boy. I don't 

^rb? "^ .'''^''^ '^ «^«° * Roman CathoSc 
king's being christened Eliza." 

buIS''T«'°**iI.''""°'"''^"* *^« ?«««* moment: 
but I daresay there are plenty if we only knew 

Romanists are capable of Tnything." 
Here Mrs. Carr joined in : 

"Still dear Mrs. Gaythome. I always considered 
Eliza quite a Protestant name-so sugg^tive of goS 

people of that kind: ^nd I almost think that Martin 
i^ */" T. """'' ^^'""^'^ '^ " '^""■t CathJSne" 
ElL^Ske:"^*"'"^ "* "' '''^*""'"^ •" *"= P-^ o^ 
r.fi!!!: ^y^?^ **« ?'«"«» at this compUmentaiy 

EliZ'^nV r*^^'' u 'Zr* ^' * ^°*^ Protestant sound about 

UW to bir^t ".T" '? '*' ^ "«'"'*' "o* have 
, *?.**^ * Poplsh-sonnding name. That is mv 

Lmewhftp *° ''*^' ^"^ "y -'"«1 ••' «voS 

«;sii.""rbSX'S;tS^^^°'"^' ^-^'^^^ 

"I must say it if I think it" 

c/SnllT* *° ■* *" "•«»»''>''■ •'"t to Mrs. 
vtaythome it was paramount 

Ji^H "f,*^ "ost beautiful name in the world," 
«~anued Mr* ^; M ^^mber learning a poe^ 

2s liTLLS^' ^""* '*«"'• '^" Christian S 
IfaT th. WHrthlng w^.; I fo^ exactly what it 
was that she wore, but I know it meant that Mary i. the 



S44 



Bn Snbjection 



moit beautiful name in the world except Edith ; and I 
really don't think it sounds at all Popish unless you put 
the prefix Bloody before it; I don't Indeed, dear Mrs. 
Gaythome." 

Janet was not yet very strong, so she utterly failed to 
conceal her amusement 

"I don't remember ever to have heard ot a child's 
being christened Bloody Mary," she remarked. 

" Excepting the queen of that name," emended Mrs. 
Gaythome. 

"I don't think th^t even she was christened any- 
thing but Maiy. I fancy the other name was an 
accretion." 

"Janet Carr, do not attempt to teach me history. 
Bloody Mary was her name and Bloody Mary was her 
nature ; from my earliest childhood I have urst called 
her by any other name, and I never shall" 

This was conclusive so Janet wisely dropped the 
subject 

" If I had had a daughter," remarked Mrs. Carr, « I 
should have called her Margaret after poor dear Aunt 
Susan." 

" I do not quite see that, Eveline. How could you 
call her Margaret after a woman who was named 
Susan?" 

" Because poor dear Aunt Susan's name was Susan 
Margaret, and Margaret is so much the prettier name 
of the two, and I think it is so much nicer for a girl to 
have a pretty name than an ugly one, if it is all the 
same to everybody and the relations equally pleased. 
I think Matgaret is a sweet name in itself and Madge 
or Maggie so nice for her own family and intimate 
friends, and not quite so stiff and tUtely, being shorter 
for everyday use." 



a Second Oabtiei 345 

"in had been 10 blessed as to have a daughter." said 

r"5v* J'r/*" *** '* bonded Popish, Mrs. 

Mai^d- ^"^ °' *^° '''"•'• J*""* ^"'^ ^ *"d »««» 
^ But they are the same name." 
"Janet Carr, you are tallting nonsense. You might 

" So they are." » 

af^Jl?^'^c°°* '«[..'^"«» I was christened Eliza 
l^^^mT^^l'' '?*' "^ y^-'-'Sest sister was 
christened Elizabeth after Aunt Elizabeth Latimer; and 

Au„?Fl" tl.u^°'^ ^""' ^y Summerhill and 
Aunt Ehzabeth Latimer were totally different people, 
in no way resembling each other" *^f«. 

»« £^^? S '«X) ■" ""' """ "^' "■' 

"It does; my second sister was named Maria." 
to «rl" ."*''* conclusive of alL Janet felt that 
beating the air; so she desisted. 

"And she was named Maria," added Mra. Gaythome 

n^edl ), "after Aunt Maria Utimer.who alwavs liwsrf 
w the near vicinity of our bIrthplaS" ^ 

was* ZTh?l5l.!![ i*""*'* **»'P'« t° "•' »•>«« that 
w«. but d» checked heiael£ It ««ned such a p«of 



J4« 



9n Sabjectton 



of historical ignorance not to know Mrs. Gaytborne's 
birthplace: 

"But we are wandering from Janeft point," Mn. 
Gaythome went on. "The question to be now 
considered is, what are we to call Janet's baby?" 

"He will be called Gabriel after his father," said 
Janet 

She spoke very quietly, but the two who listened 
realized that the matter was settled, and that further 
discussion was useless. So Mrs. Gaythome dropped 
the subject She knew her match — and, what is more, 
she respected her ma^ch — when she met it 

The weeks rolled on; and each day led to the 
discoveiy of fresh perfections in the baby Gabriel. No 
one who has not watched the growth of a little child 
has any idea of the wonderful developments which are 
new every momiug, nor of the absorbing interest which 
such developments excite in the loving mind of the 
onlooker. There In no interest more absorbing — few 
as much so : yet It is the fashion nowadajrs to scoff at 
the delights of the baby-world, and to pretend that 
modem women need wider fields of thought and 
occupation than the house and the nursery afford. Let 
the modem women scoff if they will ! But let them 
also remember that if they would have a foretaste of 
the millennium here and now, they must put away Irom 
them for a time all the cares of this worid and the 
deceitfulness of its riches, and must slip atUe into that 
magic ftiryland which lies around all of us in our 
infimcy, but of iriiich, alas I we Mon loae the key, to 
that we can go in and oat by wiM it M no mon. And 
they cannot do this nnleM a little child shall lead 
thnn. 
It was a bittedy cold evtatag, mdy in the amr year. 



Mfa. Carr had gone to visit some friends in tlw neiirh 
bourhood of her own home, leaving Janet to th« 
unmtemipted society of he/ babv anH i . 
happy in the new blSs thatL^L TJ^S, *"^ 
sometime h,. longing for her hurnd l:;d"2mS 
more than she could bear. But she had learnt to 
po«ess her soul in patience, and to wait u^S the 
I^rd: and therefore-as is the case with ^ C Jh, 

tz't X"" '^'-"^ '""^"•^'^ -"'° '•- -^ 

Suddenly the front- door bell rang: and a. «n<. 
servant was upstairs and the other wJ;„t janS iS 
her baby down on the drawing-room «,fa and went ^ 

rbod*%Xf^'^;. ^•'« ^.oughtTt^o'uTdr ^° 
anyBody but Mrs. Gaythome or Fabia at this late hour 

Im'^^J "^ '^r '''"' ""^ ^"t t« keep S^"; 
them standing out in the cold. 

But it was neither the one nor the other. 

of Hot?' •**«'-«eP stood a tall man dressed in a light suit 

too ir T '^^''' ^' '""'* * ^'"''''hat flashy grS 

woddlLwS„\'"''1rr"*'= *"* '"'^ of costumeTat 

hT^RTctrv^ k''" * """ort woman, and the hall at 



CHAPTER XXIV 



THB FIVE DOTS 



With a cty of delight Janet flung herself into her 
husband's arms, aild the two clung to each other for a 
few seconds in the inarticulate joy of re-union: then 
she drew Gabriel into the house, shutting the door 
behind him, and gazed earnestly into his face. 

Her first thought was that they had lied to her when 
they told her that sin and shame had written their story 
upon his features. There was not a word of truth in 
such a statement He looked older, perhaps; but his 
face was more spiritual and saintly than ever. 

Her next thought was how much better in health he 
looked than when they parted ; he had lost all signs of 
delicacy, and appeared strong and well and in good 
condition. 

Then all thoughts were swallowed up in the ecstasy 
of seeing him face to face, and feeling his dear arms 
round her once more. It was only now that the misery 
of it was suddenly relaxed that Janet realized all the 
agony she had undergone since Gabriel's disappearance : 
it was only in the revulsion back to joy, that she knew 
how terrible the bygooe pain had been. For a time her 
whole being was merged in the torrent of overwhelmiag 
happiness which swept over her souL Wherever Gabriel 
had been, he was now at home again : whatever he had 



TOe five 9otf j^, 

"My dearest, think what it must Iv. ♦« 

mote to speak. "Life has been di iTt^ 5 • T" 
without you I " "^ ""*• '*»•■'' •"<>eed 

Gabriel's eyes filled with tears as he looked inM 
^^ace and saw the lines that sorrow h^r^SL^ 

hai^e^^S^ """^ ^''' "'** " "'"'« y°" -"« think I 
Jan^ started back, and put her hand over his 

also knows that I have never once doubj^ y^' „"* 
W.r J" * ?r^"' *"»* y- were in an/;Vto 
hL 1^ ^ ^'' "y '*'«^«'' ^ will prove it to v^ 

1^ j'v '""^ " y"" t«" "e U»t you have been 
well and happy, I am content" ^^ 

" My own darling wife I " 

"U i«,'t that I don't wonder where you have been, 



35« 



SB SabfectfOR 



and why yoa dMn't come back to me before," continued 
Janet; "I have done nothing but wonder that all the 
time. But if for any reason you would rather not tell 
me, don't Remember nothing that you say or leave 
unsaid will ever make any difTerence in my love to 
you." 

Gabriel's only answer was another passionate embrace : 
and then Janet said : ■< Come into the drawing-room, 
love, and see baby; and I will get yon something to 
eat" 

Even Gabriel, well as ha thought he knew her, was 
astonished at her a^olute trust and confidence. Was 
there another woman in England, he wondered, who in 
•uch circumstances would not have insisted upon knowing 
where her husband had been, and what he had been 
doing, and why he had forsaken her? He had not 
found so great faith as this in all his life before. 

And when she laid their baby in his arms it was just 
the same. She gave up the child absolutely into his 
keeping, without askii^ why he had left her house unto 
her desolate until that child was bom. 

" But, my dear love, you must hear why I went away 
and why I could not come back before," he said, after 
be had kissed and blessed the boy. 

" Not unless you wish to tell me," she repeated. "It 
is enough for me that the dead is alive again and the 
lost is found." 

And (Mice more he marvelled at the perfection of her 
(aith and luv& 

But after he had had food and drink, and was refreshed 
and strengthened, he told Janet his story. And she sat at 
his feet in the firelight, and tasted the full fruition of 
human bliss. 

"Afterl left you that day in the Iwj," be began, "I 



Vbe five Vot» ,j, 

inlked for . time over the moor; then the foe 
wddenly became so dense that I missed my way aS 
p^. «d when I tried to get back again I S thS 
I had completely lost my bearings Once or twi« I 
found myUlt at the edge of deerpiu Tqu" ri« "rnd 
wa. onlyjurtMved from ftlling over: «>-!after oie or 
two experience, of thfa kind-I decided that it was 
u^TH^ V^f" ***"' ""y "•*»•■« '" 'he fog. and that I 

Janet shuddered. - How terrible ! " she mu. mured. 
Gabriel continued : 

K.,» ^.t"****!"'? ' '"°"~* "y**'^ <='"« to » shepherd's 
hut. and toought I would wait there until it was «fe to 
£0 back to the inn. It was not yet dark, as it was 
still early in the aitemoon. but the wall of white mi" 
w« impenetrable So I entered the hut: and to riy 
horror found that .t was already tenanted-and tenanteJ 
by an escaped convict from Dartmoor prisoa I knew 
him at once by his dress." 
" Oh I Gabriel, whatever did you do ? » 

hi'J f^ **'' ^T ^ ~"''' '" ^^ <=''«"n,stances: I told 
h.m at once who I was and that I had lost my way ; and 

i; Was be very wicked-Iooking ? " Janet asked. 
No; that is the strange part of the story. He was 

^me future* He might have been my twin bother 
n? was serving a five years' sentence for a burglary near 



3S« 



9n Stt(}ectlon 



Exeter, rather more thui a year of which sentence wai 
yet to run." 

" How very itrange that he should have been lo like 
you t " exclaimed Janet 

"Those accidental resemblances are always strange, 
my darlini;; but perhaps this one may be to some 
extent accounted for by the fact that both Costello and 
I have Italian blood in our veins ; and in the two cases 
the same mixed nationalities have produced the same 
physical type." 

"Yes, ya; now I begin to see how it all hap- 
pened." ^ 

Gabriel continued his narrative ; 

" But the worst part is yet to come. To my further 
horror I found that the man was raving mad 1 At least 
so he appeared to be at the time: but I have since 
discovered that he feigned madness in order to suit his 
own purposes, and was really as sane as you or I — and 
a great deal cleverer t " 

"What did he do?" 

" He was silent at first, evidently maturing his plans, 
and seeing how be could make the most of the oppor- 
tunity thus thrown in his way. And then suddenly he 
seized a carbine which he had with him — (he had seized it, 
I presume, from one of the warders in charge of the party, 
when he knocked him down and escaped) — and held it 
at my head, saying that he would shoot me If I would 
not grant a request he was about to make." 

"And what was his request? " asked Janet, absorbed 
in the story. 

"Tliat he might tattoo me on the shoulder. It 
seemed a mad idea at the time — ^just the thing for a 
maniac to think nf—but I have since seen how ingenious 
it wasb" 



VbeffKSotf 



u» 



"Sejroumibraitted?'' 

"There wu nothine else to he <Im.. i* 

"Ci.rf.fni.. ^ P''" *** humour him." 

•gain at the tl ou'iht o??er Jisbeifc?, ,i'"- ' """'•'"«' 

"So he unloacfed ^is^S^l^iT^'T'^J:, 
out of the cartridge, a„d-wS 2 .if of^^i' 

doflntheTha^'o^?/. '^""'" '^"' «- ««•" 
gunpowder in.' Then hflal^ doJ^ ^^ ""''^' "« 

picked a qu"re?Sth J? evSir •''•"' *"" '''« "''" 
W.«pidJ.deSj;p,an.» ""^ "■ ""'^ancewith 

" Wha,t did he quarrel about, dearest?" 

11 .ot'Cl7";";t; ^^^^''-P''^^^ "it was 

-"2r^r;^:l?-«X^ 



SS4 9n •n»i«ctloii 

Janet Miied her husband's hand and covered it with 



« Then did fou tell then who you were, and explain 
everything f " she asked. 

" Of course I did : but nobody believed me. They 
had found me lying unconscious at the bottom of a 
stone pit, close to the shepherd's hut with my head severely 
injured ; and I wore the convict's outward appearance, and 
was dressed in the convict's clothes. Moreover, if further 
proof were needed of my identity with him, he was dis- 
tinguished by a Uttoo-marlc upon his shoulder— five doU 
In the shape of a crpsa : and there on my shoulder was 
the selfsame mark : which, by the time that I was well 
enough to ask for confirmation as to who I was, had 
lost every sign of being recently done, and looked as il 
it had been there for years. How could they doubt 
that I was he ? " 
" Oh I Gabriel, they ought to have known better." 
Gabriel smiled the old sweet smile that Janet knew 
io well " I do not really see that they were to blame. 
All the evidence was on their side : and naturally they 
did not pay much heed to the sUtements of a man who 
had been off his head for several months. You see, I 
recovered physically from the effecto of my fall, long 
before I did mentally. Besides my very hands testified 
against me ; for, as you know, I have so roughened and 
coarsened them by working with the lads in my parish at 
carpentering and gardening and the rest, and by con- 
ducting the g3rmnasium for the benefit of the boys, that no 
one could Uke them for the hands of a gentleman. They 
looked as if the picking of oakum had been their 
wonted occupatioa" 

"Then evidently the man escaped in your clothes; 
because you wore supposed to have ridden to Newton 



W« ftH 9oii ,„ 

not I ^?* "• ^' ='°*^'" "^»t you are wearS 

•h!; J""'^' •J.e.dded: -the clothes thS iTewTrf 
when he was iint taken Into custody ? • 

« V^f'ft*''!? ***"*" " """*'f *•"> disgust : 
n,n^Z' ^ P"?*?" "thoriUes gave them to me iM 
mornmg when I left off my convict dreu. a™ . 
not^too t^We (or «.rds/c<So S„,^^e'';;^ 
Sh^eiX "^^ " ""• "*^ **' Rothes." 'I„d >. 
sen"^,.^""'-^"" """^ «•* ">• «•' of hi. 

wiA »r"^,°°* *' '"^ °' ^^ wntence. my dearest 
w^J th. addiuonal punishment that hi. es^ipeentlS 
and God wa. with me all the time." * 

wei Al"th °L f ''"'T'' """ ^^ ^ »>" «>«ve and 
weu. Although (or, perhaps, because) she was Dreoared 

fr«iu^ ""' *^'"^' *''''='> *« ""not do that we 

thMeth« U ""^ "**"'=* *•>** '"■^''n«» " sent to 

tho« who lay annec«ary ,trtu upon the advantag. S 



ss« 



9n SnMectloii 



bodily hetlth, and poverty to thoM who Mt nndoetterft 
upon the poMesrion of riches ; while such >s exagRcrate 
the happiness of human companionship are doomed 
to a solitary life, and such as crave inordinately for 
fame and distinction are condemned to ineffective 
obscurity. 

There was great interest felt and expressed, not only 
in his immediate circle but all over England, in Gabriel 
Carr's return. His experience was so remarkable that 
it commanded universal attention. Of course there was 
sincere regret expressed in high and official quarters 
over what had happened, and an elaborate apology 
was sent irom the Home Office. But official 
apologies, however handsome and wdl-dothed they 
may be, hardly compensate to an innocent man for 
the discomforts arising from false imprisonment The 
State can do no wrong : and therefore, when it does, it 
is no easy matter to put mattsis right again. 

But all things worked together for good to Gabriel 
Carr. The rq^lar hours and plain fare, and the absence 
of all responsibility in his prison life, had done more for 
his overwrought nervous system than any so-called •* rest 
cure" could have done: and Gabriel was once more a 
strong man. 

But although he was restored to health and strength, 
the Rector of Gaythome did not resign his country 
living and once more Uke upon himself the responsi- 
bility of a town parish : he gave all his spare time, of 
which he had plenty, to revival work : and conducted 
most successful missions all over England, which were 
crowned with abundant results. For he felt that in this 
way he accomplished more work and gained a wider 
spiritual influence than he would ever have done in one 
parish kowevw larg« and popolou. 



5be gwi Bow iij 

S» the Lord tuned the captivity of Gibriel as the 

!?~^? "L^ !"""*■ *"** "«"«• '»'• '»"« end more 
ttan his beginning. And he accomplished that which 

?T^ "f* P~P«««> Jo the thing whereto he was 
•ent: for God was with him. 



ptH' 



CHAPTER XXV 



CiBSAR COSTELLO 



It was about a year after Gabriel's return, and he was 
conducting a mission in one of the largest sAport 
towns in the north of England. As usual he set aside 
a portion of each morning and evening for seeing 
privately any who might wish to consu't him upon 
spiritual matters, and giving them discreet and ghostly 
counsel : and great was his amazement late one night 
when who should be ushered into his sanctum but the 
quondam convict, Caesar Costello I 

Once again Gabriel was startled by the man's extra- 
ordinary resemblance to himself. And yet hardly to 
himself as he was, but rather to himself as be might 
have been, had he chosen evil instead of good, and 
walked in the broad path that leadeth to destruction 
rather than in the narrow way, the end whereof is 
everlasting life. There, but for the grace of God, stood 
Gabriel Carr — Gabriel Carr as he would have been had 
not the Master called him to be His disciple, and had 
he not heard the Master's Voice and followed Him 
whithersoever He went 

And as Gabriel looked closer he saw — with the 

trained eye of the priest, which h quick to pierce 

below the surface and read the hidden things of the 

heart— that Costello was not the same as when he 

35« 



(tetent Costello 35, 

saw hJm that day in the shepherd's hut upon Dartmoor. 
Continued sin and vice and dissipation had ploughed 
fresh furrows and inscribed new lines upon the man's 
face. But there was something more than that Out 
of the mud, wherein the sinner was wallowing, a pierced 
Hand had made clay and had anointed his eyelids ; and 
whereas he had been blind, now he saw. Saw himself 
as God saw him, and regarded his sin as God r^arded 
It : and the sight had well-nigh driven him mad. 

In broken accents Costello told Gabriel his story. 
Told how he had been living In Paris upon ill-gotten 
gains ever since bis escape from prison, draining the 
cup of illicit pleasure, to the dr^s: and how he was 
then on his way to America, there to seek " fresh woods 
and pastures new," wherein he might pluck the fruits of 
sin and cultivate the flowers of vice. On his way to the 
docks he had passed the door of tiie hall where the 
Rector of Gaythome was conducting his mission ; and, 
having learnt from the notices outside the doors who 
the missioner was, Costello was compelled by curiosity 
to look in just to see once more the man who had stood 
in his place and had suffered in his stead. 

And then through the mouth of the preacher God 
spoke to the sinner, and called him out of the darkness 
of ignorance Into the marvellous light of spiritual 
knowledge. In that light Costello saw the hideous- 
ness of his own soul and his own sins, and cried to the 
mountains to cover him and the earth to swallow him, 
so that he might escape from the Presence of the living 
God. And he came fo the man, who had been God's 
mstniment In awakening him out of the sleep of sin to 
the »wful consciotfsness of his own condition, in the hope 
that he might thereby find balm in Gilead, and a physician 
to minister to his spirit's sickness. 



irn 



Jr 



9fe }n Stt»}ect(on 

For long hours Gabriel talked and prayed with the 
stricken man. On the sinner's behalf he wrestled until 
the breaking of the day with One Who is ever mi|^ty 
to save: and because the fervent prayer of a righteous 
man availeth much, he had power with God and 
prevailed. 

After the men had risen from their knees, Costello's 
first thought was how he could make reparation for the 
sins he had committed: and he told Gabriel that he 
intended as soon as it was day to give himself up to the 
authorities so that they might send him back to 
Dartmoor, there to work out the rest of his sentence. 

But Gabriel bade Mm forbear. 

" I do not know if what I am going to say to you is 
according to the laws of man," he said, "but I believe 
it is according to the law of God ; and I tell you not to 
give yourself up again to the authorities, nor to return 
to prison." 

Costello was amazed: this had seemed the only 
course open to him. But he was ready now to sub- 
jugate his will and submit his judgment to the man 
who had shown him the way to the foot of the Cross. 

" I will do whatever you bid me," he replied. 

"Then listen I Now that you have repented of your 
(ins and are ready and willing to give yourself up to 
justice, I cannot see that the completion of your time in 
prison can do yon any good : and your soul's welfare is 
what I have most at heart" 

Tears filled the criminal's eyet, and he could not 
apeak. He was dumbfoundered by such generosity. 

" I daresay I am all wrong according to the laws of 
England," Gabriel continued, with a smile; "but I 
believe that I am doing right according to the laws of 
Heaven. The end of repentance is the beginning of a 



new life ; and I have v^* t^ u 

for that new life SyourlinF^Z^^''^^*"''^^^^ 
stage. Beside, .urelv 7 h« P^°^^'y •««> tender 
wfa^I claim : I «rtL fe^^** *^ *""" P"~ <■« 

r-ri.«,dthatw.rSg?t"S^r"" ^ °"*-- 

Put.anoK'inte^'ttrrhS-U- %'S.Sr^ 
to give me up to justice ? " Oughtn t you 

-al of theLfS„ra„r«,'" '"'; **"' ""'^^ ""^ 
to repeat a woToft jt ^S^kI ""^ I"""" "°* 
principle of my sacred nJf • ^ "«'*""* ^^^O' 
could do wouWl^olJdr~°".'"*^ '"^""S- AH I 
"P to justi^ 7f I ioul. »K F"""^' *** «'^« '"■"^'^ 

'"coti\4^ ' ^^^^^^^^ "■''' ^"^ " 

Costello broke down and sobbed aloud ■ 

Wh2YS„roniltou i""' T" ^*- ^ "° ««- 

I have t«atS you I fc J ?*"' ^t'"'^ ^'" «»« "^ how 
.7""^ y°"i ' 'eel I am unfit to live ! •• 

Gabne laid his hand upon the othSs shoulder: 
-ttt" u1;LZ:7^1 "^ ''%^"'' °' ">* -"o'e 
you must P^iTeXTwi I'S"? ' "^* "■^^; 
the bargain, and not go ba^k to thTL if ^^' ^"^ °^ 
would not be Dlavino. ♦h- ** ^'^' "S*""- That 

expe'Syo?t'o mee'"L TalH ;y iTot-^, ' '^ 
his whimsical smile ^' ** °*''"'' »°"'«' 



$«• 



911 S«|fccti(m 



" I irill be your servant to my life's end," he cried : 
■whatever you tell me to do, I will do it." 

" This is what I tell you to do : and though I speak 
of myself, I believe that I also have the Spirit of God. 
You shall go to America as you had arranged, and in 
the berth you have already taken : and when you land 
you shall go straight to a Missionary Training College, 
the head of which is a friend of mine, to whom I will 
give you a letter of introduction : and there you shall 
learn to serve Christ in the mission fields." 

" And I swear that I will serve Him, so help me Godl" 

"You cannot stay Jo England, you see," continued 
Gabriel ; "if you do, the police will track you, and send 
you back to prison. And I cannot help believing that 
you can serve God better by carrying His Gospel to the 
far-off isles of the southern seas than by picking oakum 
in Dartmoor gaoL Besides," he added, with a humorous 
twinkle in his eye, "we have defrauded the Government 
of nothing in that line : I have picked your full share of 
oakum, so the authorities can have nodiiiif to complain 
of : though I have no doubt tbey would complain a good 
deal if they only knew." 

" Sir, I will follow your coonsel to the end of my life. 
You shall never regret what you have done for mt this 
night." 

Gabrid's face grew serious again : 

" I shall not know how you requite my dealings with 
you; but Christ will know how you requite His. I 
shall probably never see yon again ; but His £3% will 
be with yon even unto the end of the world. Upon 
you — and you alone— will rest the awful responsibility 
if you neglect so great salvation. And now we must 
get to bwiinest and conclude all the arrangements," he 
added, changing his tone ; " the day is breaking, and 



<t*sar (tottello 



363 



?^ "• T v° ^ ''*''*■ " y°"' »Wp «dl. for 
America m a few hours from now, and I do not want 
you to miM ,t and to fall once more into the hands of 

^'n^I'^u' '."**"'** "**'" '"' y" <■»" into the Hands 
of God than mto the hands of man ; and into His Hands 
I commit you, body, soul and spirit, from this Ume forth 
and even for evermore." 

With his usual elBdency and rapidity Gabriel gave 
the future missionary iiill instructions as to the new life 
on which he was about to enter, and the way in which 

r II?" ^ ?"* *'^"* '*' *"*' *'"*« » 'ettw to the head 
of the Training College giving such instructions and 
advice regarding the convict as he thought necessary 
And then he put before Costello food and drink, and 
finally despatched him with a blessing, to serve God 
according to his day and generation. 



EPILOGUE 



gone since the eventi 



Thrm y^sn had come and 
recorded >, the last chapter. 

In a house in Prince's Gardena a man and a woman 
were sitting over their dessert 

" I can just iinish tihis cigarette, and then I must get 
back to the House, my sweet," the man said. 

The woman roae from her seat at the head of the 
table and came round to her husband's side, perching 
herself on the arm of his chair. 

"Ifs a funny thing," she said, with a sigh: "a very 
funny thing; but you were right, and I was wrong 
aaeralL" 

He laughed. He knew how very remarkable it always 
seemed to her to find herself in the wrong. 

" As bow ? " he asked, putting Us arm round her. 

"Oh! about politics and things. I thought you'd 
smash up the party and ruin the country when you got 
into the Cabinet ; but you've done neither the one nor 
the other." 

Again the man laughed ; 

*It is amazing how little permanent mischief even 
the most gifted and indefatigable of politicians arc able 
to accomplish. The mistakes of the greatest statesmen 
are not nearly so irremediable as they would fain believe. 
The great forces of Nature and the Permanent Staff 
I the even tMor of their way, regardless of chaining 
J«4 



"wh^'lim*^ *•"* eveo^hJng did." «Jd the man. 
tlml fhlr' y°""8 *"«• ""Official. In those far-off 

you W." ^" ""=" '"^ "'K*""**" '"d ideal. 

«f '^^J**"* *l!" 7'""'"« '" *« unsubstantial pageant. 
Si ?'»''"']'••'',« "."gel came, and whipp'd the 

unSt"Li r T yj^' ^" "y "»°ffi2^ «d 

r? ''•y' ^ ''"*<' « *e stars.'' 

And a v«y good thing too, Paul I It i, the oeoDle 
who aim at the star, that succeed in sweeping theKwn 
chimneys: and the people who set out to Lcend th^ 
Jungfrau, ttat manage to get to the to^ of No"t?„„ h1 
Now stupid, sensible people-like myself and Wrexham 

^'**°«^"'y-J»«tthechimney..andsodonottg 
better than nng the front-door bell- we wt «,.» rZ. 

Notting Hiltand so get no farther' th?n S^TlbS 
MemonaL Which things are an allegory." 

«m«l,i*'"/i!°»*™'^ • distinguished statesman once 
JM«rked-that politics is the science of the second- 

thi; woTrrk"'" ^°" ~"" *° *"'*• '"°'* *'"«» '" 
The man's arm tightened round her: "Except one" 

Jeuid: "and the reality of that exceeds the wildest 

dreams of the maddest idealist" 
His wife nestled up to him : 
" Yeu are a wry soeoewful omd, Paol. and haw h^l 



jM 



5nS«Mcctfon 



a good many cups of happineti pat to your lips ; th« 
cup of success, and the cup of fame, and the cup of 
power, and the cup of rank, and, in fact, quite a trayful 
of them. Which do you like best of all ? " 

" There is no comparison, my darling," he answered, 
with a laugh of absolute content: "of all the cups of 
happiness that have been put to my lips I have found none 
to compare with the falsely so-called ' weaker vessel ' ; 
■o, with your permission, I will just put my lips to it 
again." And he kissed her with all the rapture of a 
lover. 



On the lawn in front of an old-fashioned manor-house 
a man and two women were having tea. A small girl 
of two years old was trotting about from one to the 
other, while a baby-boy lay asleep in a perambulator. 

" I consider that it is almost time for Lisa to have a 
thimble of her own," remarked the elder of the women ; 
' when I was two and a half years of age I could sew, 
quite neatly : and at three I joined the village Dorcas 
Meeting." 

"By Jove, mother, but you were an extra forward 
one I " exclaimed the man, who was lying full-length on 
the grass ut his wife's feet, his tea-cup in a position of 
imminent danger at his elbow. " You can't expect the 
poor little kiddie to be as clever as her grandmother." 

" That, Charles, is what I do expect The training 
of a child cannot begin too early. When I was four I 
read the 'Fairchild Family' aloud to my dear mother: 
and at live J was conversant with all the information 
contained in 'Near Home' and 'Far Off.'" 

Lisa's mother smiled languidly : 



BpUo«tte ^ 

But the old lady shook her head • 
«; .irVaSJ' *"' "''"''"^ "* *^» •*- - <"«» 

^^t S^<r. »r " ''*'' "^'^^ "^^ elemental. 
childrT I^ ""'• ^'"' """' ^"^ been wonderful 

cftildr«n. Do you mean to tell me that you and Aunt 
Maria never had anything to eat or drink?" '^""' 

^"■"■iM. do not be ribald. What i m»,„ i »u . 

St /'::'**"*'*'"«= *« were t<^ wiiT^ 
Well, it strikes me that you swallowed a good deal 

Hir*' J.T"^^ -f yo" were dosed wifr^Nea 

?;ify.'"'E,'mo£;?."-°'^^ -'^^« ---id 

"Charles, I cannot permit you to be irrBVi.«.nf . .-. ■ 

uacK, stroking his yellow hair as she did «n a. »u 

to-mtrot STeTtltS' '?^'' "' "^^ compliments^ 

uorrow, and yesterday's sneers are to-dav's nlanH.*. 

So^eam a. we grow older to be thTnlclf £\tu 

i«Jy. quite uncoMooni of the fact that she waa 



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m 



9n Subjection 



affording much amusement to her juniors: "I derived 
from them immense benefit In fact all my present 
knowledge of Thibet I owe to the reading of ' Far Off; 
or, Asia Described.' " 

" So I can believe," murmured her daughter-in-law. 
But fortunately nobody heard her. 

At this moment the youthful Lisa made a gallant 
attempt to sit down upon her father's tea-cup ; and was 
only saved from doing so by the prompt action of 
that parent himself. But her grandmother went on 
undisturbed : 

"As soon as she > is old enough to understand it, I 
shall read portions of the 'Fairchild Family' aloud to 
Lisa ; as I know no book more fitted to open the eyes 
of a child to good sound doctrine." 

" By Jove, it does that I " exclaimed her son, who had 
been himself brought up on the work in question: "and 
gives you the shivers sometimes into the bargain." 

" If you can make her as good a woman as you are," 
said the younger woman, " I shall be thankful for you 
to read to her anything that you choose." 

"Thank you, Fabia. And if she is as good a 
daughter to you as you have been a daughter-in-law to 
me, you will have indeed cause for thankfulness." 

Oiut more the Scene changes. 

In a large Church in the East End of London the 
newly appointed Bishop of Shoreditch was preaching to 
a vast congregation. He held them spell-bound, for he 
was one of the most striking preachers of his day : a 
man who had already risen to high Office in his Church, 
and who was destined and fitted to rise still higher : a 
o»ui who had bcea •• a beaem set on a hiU to countless 



•truggUng Christians; «nd who, being wdowed with 
In one of tiie foremost pews in the Church two 

and exultation because of him: for to them he hrd 

^..l^T^'u'' ^' °""* *^""^"' •'f sons the mtn 
devo ed of husbands, the most loving of fathers. And 
now they rejojced that at last he was entering into the 
fnirts of h.s labours. At least the two women rejoiced! 
the boy was as yet too young to understand anythine 

h« father, and that he ought to be proud indej of 
being the son of so ^rreat a preacher. 

As for the preacher himself, he had gone throueh 
much tribulation, but his faith in God had never fS 
tnd now he saw fte end of the Lord : that the Lord is' 
27 P**''^"'«l,o tender me«y. He forgot his miW 
and remembered it only a. waters that ^ss away : fo 
at iMt the lines had fallen to him in pleasant placi 
and he had a goodly heritage: ^^ ^^^ 

For tke third and but Hm* tJu Scttu ehanga. 

Upon the shore of an island in the southern seaa 
three men-one white and two black-were walking up 
and down engaged m earnest conversation. The white 
man was a newly-ordained missionary who had but 
recently come to those parts, but who had already 

seS? Thl wT "'"'•' '' *^P'^y«^ '" »>" Master's 

M^^I .4 !,T*** **" "**'™ P"«t«. whose 
Mcerdotal pride and love of power were up in arma 



St* }n •nbfcctfon 

■gdnit the new &ith which wu gradually sapping their 
influence for evil, and supplanting their religion of hate 
and cruelty by the worship of the God of Love. 

The Bishop of that district had come on a visit to 
this particular island in response to an invitation from 
the chief of the savage tribe which dwelt there — a man 
considerably in advance of hit race and people, who 
was anxious to learn and to embrace the doctrines of 
Christianity. The young Anglican had rowed the 
Bishop over from the missionary station, and was now 
waiting — ^his boat securely stranded on the beach- 
while the Bishop and the chief held private converse 
together in the hut of the latter, some few hundred yards 
away. 

It was the opportunity of the native priests: and 
they took it They were well aware that the man 
before them was one of the most ardent and untiring of 
all the hated band of missionaries : and they believed 
that if he were once out of the way, his weaker and 
less impressive brethren would soon follow; and that 
thus their island would once more be left secure in the 
fetters of its former heathenism. Of the Bishop they 
did not take much account He was growing old ; and 
his sphere of work was so wide that he could visit each 
particular island but rarely. But this man was in the 
prime of life— not much over thirty— and was dis- 
tinguished by considerable personal beauty : moreover 
his labours were confined to this particular comer of his 
Master's vineyard ; and he was seen frequently in this 
island, preaching the Gospel which the native priests 
hated, and promulgated the religion which they regarded 
with dread. 

At first the two natives approached him in a friendly 
-jod cr^mmercial spirit, walking up and down the shore 



and 



wfth him arm-Jn-ann, and endeavouring by meana of 
costiy ptesents to bribe him to go away and trouble 
them no more. But to their surprise he refused, and 
would have none of their skins and furs and feathers. 

ThM they became angry and threatened him: told 
him that unless he would give his word as a white man 
—that word which could never be broken-that he 
would not visit their island again, nor attempt further 
to convert its chief to Christianity, they would kill him 
then and there. And still he smiled his serene smile, 
and bade them hear in their own tongue some of the 
wonderful works of God. 

And then, as tfiey looked steadfastly on him. they 
MW his face as it had been the face of an angel : and 

^ L!, u. ^} *''* '" **" *«* fi"«d with that 
hatred which the sons of darkness ever feel towards the 
children of light: so the two savages fell upon the 
European and slew him then and the- and then fled 
into the dense forest to hide themselves antil the wrath 
of then- chieftain (on finding that his people had murdered 
one of his beloved missionaries) should be overpast 

When the visitation of the Bishop was ended and he 
rrturned to his boat, he found the young missionary 
lying dead upon the shore, pierced through with many 
speara : for the life which was twice redeemed— first by 
the Master Himself and then by the Master's servant- 
had been freely and willingly given up to God. 



THB END 



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" MadaiM <!• Ml>ll•9u^" " Madua du Buiy," 

" QoMU of Ite FMnch Stat*," Mc 

Ai Aatf >M, tUh gOI tid tin Iff 
With |6 iUuitroHtiu mid m fMigrmmrt flat$, ite. iH« 

Under the title of " Fire Fair Siiten," Mr. Noel WUliams tells the 
Aarf of the Uree of Laure, Olympe, Muie, Hortenie and Maiianne 
Hanciiu, the celebmted niecei of Qirdinil Muario. Brought from 
Rome to Fnince u children, all five made brilliant marriages, and, 
with the exception of the eldest sister, who died at a comparatiTel; 
eailjr age, all bad the most romantic careers. The churning romance 
of tonis XrV. and Mari^ Mandni, which, but for the determined 
opposition of Hazaiin, would nndonbtadlT have ended in Marie 
becoming Queen of France, is rehited at length, and will be found 
of the greatest possible interest. Scarcely less interest attaclies to the 
careers of the dcTer and unscrupulous Olympe (Comtesse de Soissons), 
" a woman formed for great crimes, whose true place would have been 
in the Palace of the Ctssars or the Vatican of the Borgias"; of 
Marianne (Duchess de Bouillon), who, with Olympe, was implicated 
in the famous Poison Trials in 1680; and of the lovely Hortense 
(Duehesse de Uasarin), who fled from her jealous and bigoted husband 
to Engknd, where she became one of the reigning beauties of Charles 
II.'s Conrt 

Mr. Noel Williams's many readers will find in this volume the same 
thoroughness of research and carefiU criticism, combined with lightnes* 
of treatment, which distingnisbes all his work. 



The Tree of Life 



By ERNEST CRAWLEY, II.A. 

Althoc af " Tka Kmk Rosa." 
htitii9tm»,tUhiW,JM.mtt ' 

" Thaoi^tful and sonestiTe. The book is always well eonddered, 
s lid it carries liditly a large weight e( learning in the modem literature 
of its subject. It will be read with interest and advantage."— Avtiasoii. 

"Tlic roader will find mnch that is instroctiTe and suggestive. It 
■ a valaabla ooatiibatioa to the modem efibrts to found Oe evidences 
o f reUgl oa ca a mere pecmaacat and rational hK^'—Uiuimltr 
C9ttrtttt 



Memoirs of Malakoff 

■**^ by a M. JOHNSTON 

-d "d.Ur. during .hfa pS ^ „ j""'^'^""""""' 
"..«.»«. for Mr. Johnston ^ jli,]^^ "!•'"*«" '" " i»tim«. 
-.". of .he domgi or *. r. Zt !r ""^ " '"'^~"" » 
W« of iMo. fte Siege of ^^i. " j '.^ ~"~' "^'«'"«' *« CiWI 
. good del to «y ^n *e V^ll t . '"°"'™- «« "l" ^u 
.he .olume. «.y L e„* , ^^^''T! ^"'•- »■> ""l., the. 
Jobnston, ha. edited ^ ' J^l "'' J""""'™'* »<». Mr. R. M. 
-^ connech, an." ^ rr^-^t -^ - 



Robert Owen 



Bj FRANK PODMOHB 

»..re.tin.UU^oonce;L'^^0^«.".c«re.tSoa.«.t. ^. 

I^ely eolttDeed »Iu, of J^te^Tl J' " " ^"''^ ^ «■« 
«>. Socilirt «d Cos»I„dve 1 !^'" *• ""'^"* of U,e birth of 

>« one of the fo,ad«7ofTe f.k^ c " **'• ^'^'»'«. »1» 

h- m.de ftU „« oTrrJlu ^ ^•^' ■»"»<>««« to „d 

-e— . 3.000 L'nrjii^r^rro:;;'"-"-- 



A Deathless Story 



"THE BlIMCBNHBAO* AMD ITS HnOBS 
UfKC ADDISON a^ W. ■. MAlTHBWt 



i«rf." which w««e««faUyi«bU*ed. ""» l-~ of AbboAhU 
the dfed of taiaatag to the ulhOT % luct imooat oftrwh iaraiaiHin 
6,« .MW p«)pto Who »» •cqa.totwl with ft. drau«t«»c« rf Ae 
wraeh, (Bd ttao ftuther iatctotliig ptitieului from tomo of tho 
(UTiTon. A fr»t Bumy new pfchiiet wm dio forthcomtog to 
Uhntntc th* work, ind ft hM been dedded to publiih thii levieed 
ud enUiied. ead pnctkeUr rewritleB edition of the book, wU^ 
wiU ie»lljBlTeflieliutwotdon«B»»«»twhiehe«noiilyb«d«eciil)ed 
H the finert tnAple of diedpUne, counge, end eelf-waifiee to b* 
femd in miTil UitoiT. The book hi. been wumly commended Ij 
Lord Woheley, who hopei "thnt it may leuh the bureck-ioonu of 
ereiyierimentintheKtog'iArmy." It miorriwU. Jl the documenti 
beuinK on the nbject. ineluding the vaa&m of lumTOii, end ereiy 
lelitbla lonico of informrtion hu been topped to nuke the book 
.biolately »n Mcoiste pieMntMian of tU whole eiicnmit«noei of the 



Legends of the Madonna 

As Represented in the Fine Arts 

Br Mn. JAMESON 

WUh mmrlr aoo lUMtnrttoM, uutmUit i9fi^-t1-> /''"*' 
tmartfi^,iilwiaiiilexaaiidffmdis 

lH€UkgiU,».«A.m1. lnbaiiirlf.td.mt 
Mh Ttmnmtvt: "Thiou(^ eU the nuat beentiM ud pndoiu 
pradnedon. of hm-ui pnim which th. Middl. Agei «id the 
IwMftMwban beqneathed to «• we twee . . . on. ptet«ling ide. s 
it ii that of u impewonetioo in the feminine ehuncter of beneHcenee, 
puitT md power, *Miding between u offend«l Deity «>d poor 
SsZne hnS. *^ dthed to th. *lbt. fcn. « lUry. th. 
■ofter ef «« Loed." 



IIIOI9 

I 



■ of the 

of the 

niag to 



t, wUcb 
locribcd 
ee to be 
»ded fay 
nioin* of 
xumenti 
ind every 
the book 
aof th* 



e Arts 



i 

and the 
ilingidea; 
oiefioencei 
tnd poor 
Umij, tbi